


Lock it down

by Agoodcaptain



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Aborted tours, Corona Virus - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, M/M, lockdown - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agoodcaptain/pseuds/Agoodcaptain
Summary: A very domestic Brinn fluff - there's no cricket in it but then there's no cricket so if you ever wondered how they were coping with the lockdown, here it is...
Relationships: Stuart Broad/Steven Finn
Comments: 108
Kudos: 26





	1. Back home

**Author's Note:**

> Will update when I write more, there'll probably be some smut mixed in. 
> 
> This exists within the same universe as my other Brinn fics but you don't need to read them first (but please feel free!)

Stuart hadn’t expected this to happen. Not when he’d jokingly filmed an video on the plane panning from the headline of Joe Root announcing the team wouldn’t be shaking hands while in Sri Lanka as he held out a hand to his sour-faced captain a few rows back. Most of the time he found it hard to take Joe seriously as a captain; not that he didn’t listen to him, not that he didn’t appreciate his leadership but as far as serious… Joe didn’t exactly fit the bill. But that look he gave to Stuart was simultaneously hilarious and chilling, it didn’t stop him gigglingly posting it to his Insta story, but it gave him a weird feeling. Still, if he said then that he had any conscious thought or inkling of what was to come, that would be utter bollocks. And even for someone as skilled in subterfuge as Stuart, he couldn’t get away with that.

In truth, Stuart felt a little lost when he got off the plane at Heathrow. Most of the players toddled off to cabs and cars at the hotel near the airport, forgoing the usual hugs that ended a tour. Stuart just stared at his phone in one of the weirdly deep lobby armchairs until Joe and Jos, the last to leave as always, started eyeing him warily. Eventually Joe came over, clearly feeling some sort of pastoral responsibility, that and having been not too subtly elbowed in the side by Jos.  
“You okay, Broady? You feeling okay?”  
Stuart flushed, realising he’d been acting a little weird, “Oh yeah, fine.”  
Stuart pocketed his phone and stood up but wasn’t really sure what to do next.  
Joe seemed scared of the next question, as if the answer might be something he didn’t like, but after a beat asked, “You do have somewhere to go, don’t you?”  
As if finally thinking about it properly for the first time, Stuart turned to Joe with a smile, “Don’t worry about me Rooty, I’ve got a home.”  
“I know but…” Joe glanced back at Jos who gave him an unsure but vaguely encouraging look, “I don’t want you alone, you could… Jos’ place isn’t far, I was just going to hang there for a bit, you could join us.”  
Stuart eyed Joe as his cheeks turned redder than his own, understanding just how vulnerable his captain was making himself, although Stuart tried to suppress a knowing grin, noting to himself that as per usual, his much better half had been bang on the money. Stuart took his time, wanting to say the right thing, the reassuring thing to Joe, who was now biting his lip and straining every muscle not to look back at Jos who was now boring a hole in his head. Stuart went to put a hand on Joe’s shoulder and then thought better of it, “Thanks for your concern but I’m fine. I’m… I’ll go to Steve’s.”  
Joe stopped chewing his lip, and looked off to the side, as if grasping for context, “Steve as in...?”  
“Finny, yeah.” Stuart squeaked, he couldn’t suppress a grin saying it. If he’d stopped to look up at Joe, he’d have seen a huge, open grin on his captain’s face but Stuart wasn’t about to stick around for follow-up questions. Instead, he grabbed his rucksack and coffin, and strolled out the door with much more composure than he actually felt, leaving Jos to gape as Joe mouthed something indecipherable at him.

* * *

Rather than reply to any of Steven’s texts asking what was going on or phone him, Stuart got in his car and just drove, as if drawn on by some invisible force or homing signal, down the M4 to Steve’s flat. Typically, he couldn’t find a parking space nearby (one of his frequent gripes about staying at Steve’s) so he ended up dragging his bag along the street and arriving at his front door looking rather pathetic. Steve almost laughed at Stuart’s mopey expression when he opened the door to him but it was too sweet, too sad a sight – damn he loved that face. Instead, he silently took Stuart’s bags from him and pulled them inside, followed by the man himself, enveloping Stuart in an all-consuming hug.  
“I’m sorry baby,” Steve said at last, as Stuart leant his chin into Steve’s shoulder, fitting there snugly like the last piece of a long-worked on jigsaw fitting perfectly into place. Both of Steve’s cats, seeming to sense a need to comfort, rubbed themselves against Stuart’s legs as the two men stood there for a good minute, feeling only each other’s embrace.

Eventually, Steve kissed Stuart on the shoulder and then the cheek and pulled away, wordlessly going into his kitchen to put the kettle on; the British response to difficulty of any kind, clichéd but effective. Soon, they were both cosied up on Steve’s sofa, legs entwined, hands around large mugs of tea with a cat on each of their chests. It was strange that such a simple thing could provide relief and protection but Stuart felt like nothing could harm while he was with Steve like this, talking about nothing much. Perhaps home isn’t a postcode or an exact location, just the feeling of a cat purring into your ear while your boyfriend explains the plot of a TV show that you definitely both watched it together, as you absent-mindedly play with the curl of his hair. Because you know he’s just doing it to distract you, to make you feel better about whatever the fuck is going on in the world beyond the safe walls of this flat.

Stuart must have sighed contentedly out loud because Steve looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, “What?”  
“You realised we watch that together, right? Like on this sofa, I’m pretty sure.”  
“Oh.” Steve blushed, “I forgot sor-“  
Before Steve could get through his unneeded apology, Stuart cut him off with a kiss, an action that launched both cats onto the floor but they resettled on the plush carpet without much argument.  
Stuart pulled away, just for a moment, and Steve was beaming dreamily at him, which made Stuart go even gooier inside, “God I love you, you big idiot.”  
Steve hummed as if in deep thought, then after a moment, teased, “Yeah I guess I love you too,”  
Stuart giggled, “Lucky us, eh.”  
Steve nodded, then with a sly look that passed for a question, and Stuart biting his lip in response, which gave him his answer, he put their mugs of tea on the table, and trod a well-worn path to the bedroom, pulling Stuart along by the hand.


	2. Home Comforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Stuart... get reacquainted. Then they get domestic as heck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very smutty to start, skip to below the line if that ain't your thang.

Steve kept their hands linked as he wrapped his arm around Stuart, drew him close, and kissed him deeply. Stuart grinned into as if the whole encounter was a pleasant surprise. It made Steve’s heart melt and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Stuart withdrew slightly, scowling, “What?”  
Steve let Stuart’s hand go, and held his face tenderly, “I’m just lucky, that’s all.”  
Stuart frowned again, as if he couldn’t comprehend the notion, “I’m the lucky one, you idiot.”  
“Hey don’t call me an idiot. I’m the fucking love of your life.”  
Steve laughed but Stuart just smiled gently, and kissed Steve again, at first softly then hard, as Steve responded in kind.

The two slowly sank into Steve’s bed; Stuart’s tongue lazily exploring Steve’s mouth as Steve’s hands roamed under Stuart’s team polo. Impatient now, Stuart dispensed with his shirt, and Steven’s hoodie that he was wearing without anything underneath – a habit he’d picked up when they first got together, or rather when they first left each other. After a few months of messing around, and pretending they hadn’t fallen head over heels, when they finally decided to make a proper go of things, then they had to leave each other. Then, Stuart came back injured from the World Cup, and Steve had been so sick with worry from finding out he had got injured again to having him back in his flat in London fussing over him. Steve had decided then that life was too short for being proud and he told Stuart that he wanted to be together, for reals. Luckily that was the kind of offer that Stuart couldn’t refuse, the kind he had been waiting his whole life for, and when he went back up to Notts for rehab and preseason, he left behind one of his England hoodies to remind Steve of him. It was very school kids in love, but given they had to skip all that when they were young, they deserved a bit of soppiness. Steve wore it near constantly, forgoing a t-shirt to keep Stuart closer to him he said. It felt a little old-fashioned and possessive but Stuart couldn’t help but find the whole thing unbearably sexy, even now when the hoodie was a scruffy plain black number that could have belonged to either one of them.

They kissed like this for a while; bare chests pressed together, just enjoying being together. Sometimes it felt like Steve could just spend forever like this in each other’s arms, that would be enough for him. Well, if it wasn’t for the obvious growing swell beneath his soft grey tracksuit bottoms that Stuart thought he must have been wearing on purpose to drive him crazy. Stuart pulled slightly away from Steve, exhaling “Jesus,” as he stared at Steve’s crotch. Steve giggled, “Thanks,” which made Stuart roll his eyes and pull Steve back towards him, kissing him hard as if punishing his cheek. Steve responded, almost growling as he dug his nails in at Stuart’s hips, as if trying to rip his team tracksuit off. Stuart grinned and chewed along Steve’s sharp jaw line as Steve attempted to remove Stuart’s boxers and trackies in one swift motion. He failed miserably but it barely registered with either one of them, such was their level of comfort.

Without breaking contact with Steve’s chest where Stuart was now working away with his tongue, Stuart kicked off his trackies and underwear, then as he dragged his tongue down Steve’s chest and firm abdomen, he rolled down Steve’s waistband, freeing his rock hard cock from the bulky fabric. Stuart licked along Steve’s shaft, enjoying the first buck of pleasure as his tongue made contact. Steve craned his neck to look down at his boyfriend but Stuart pushed him back onto the bed as he massaged Steve’s thighs and worked at his slick length.

Steve shivered and scrunched his toes but it was no use, he was very close. “Baby,” he whispered but Stuart kept going and Steve had to pull Stuart away and then up towards him, kissing him once before rolling Stuart onto his back. He left him lying there as he reached across to his bedside table for lube. He spread it along his fingers and then spread Stuart’s legs and grinned down at his partner’s prone form, he gave him a lingering look but he didn’t have to say anything, not after all this time. Stuart never felt more beautiful than when Steve smiled at him, he never felt beautiful at all until Steve told him that he was.

After a good long moment, Steve slowly lowered himself to Stuart, kissed him gently at first and then rougher again. He raked his fingers down Stuart’s chest, and then worked his fingers from Stuart’s shaft, encircling it, then backwards towards his eager entrance. Stuart gasped as Steve entered him first with one digit, then three and then at last with his slick cock. Stuart gripped tightly onto Steve’s muscled arms as he thrust into Stuart, as if he was trying to keep a hold on the world. Steve grinned lasciviously and balanced one hand on the bed and with the other, he paired his thrusts with rough jerks of Stuart’s cock, which sent Stuart from turned on to the edge. Steve teetered there himself, enjoying the sight of Stuart below him, at his mercy. They came together in loud, low relief and crashed together in a sticky mess.

Steve exhaled, trying to catch his breath, and Stuart giggled; they really never lost a step together, each time was just as good as the last. Stuart put a hand through Steve’s hair and Steve turned to smile at the familiar gesture, “I love you too.”  
“How’d you know that’s what I was thinking?”  
Steve raised his eyebrows, “Psychic, innit.”  
“Oh really?”  
“Or a lucky guess,” Steve retorted, twinkle in his eyes.  
“Well, good guess, I’m pretty much always thinking that.”  
Steve smiled, his insides a hot gooey mess now, but still he couldn’t resist teasing as he heaved himself off the bed and gave Stuart a hand to help him do the same, “Apart from when you run into bowl babe. ‘Cause then you’re singing Mambo No. 5 in your head.”  
Stuart blushed; even though he had nothing left to hide from Steve or be embarrassed about, and muttered, “I really wish I hadn’t told Jim that. I can’t believe he said it on Tailenders. So much for Fast Bowlers’ Union.”  
Steve put his arm round Stuart and pulled him close as he dragged him towards the bathroom for a water-saving joint shower, and in mocking tones, told his boyfriend not to worry, that they’d always be in their own little union. Although Stuart knew Steve was only making fun, he couldn’t think of a better promise, or a more appealing notion.

* * *

Stuart towelled off quickly and left Steve as his mum called via Facetime. Stuart smiled and waved, hoping to duck out the room before she realised they both had wet hair. His face went scarlet at the thought of Steve’s mum knowing that two men in their thirties who had been in a relationship for several years had been intimate, the mere thought crossing his mind almost made him explode. Steve who knew him inside out, and exactly why he was squirming, rolled his eyes before continuing the conversation. Stuart heard her say, “Oh I’m glad Stuart’s there, I was worried about him,” and he smiled to himself as he exited to the kitchen, just before he closed the door, when Steve must have thought he was already gone, he replied, “Yeah, I was too,” and Stuart floated down the hallway, a grin stretched out across his face in a way that would look ridiculous if anyone were to see it.

Stuart had merely left the room out of embarrassment but as he got to the kitchen, he realised that he was actually quite hungry; they had worked up an appetite after all. Typically, like any spoilt Londoner, Steve spent a lot of time eating out and didn’t have much in his fridge. Even with the impending apocalypse or whatever was happening, all Steve had some broccoli, a questionable red pepper, some baby corn and two packets of bean sprouts for some reason. Stuart tutted, rooting around the cupboards for some noodles, and some spices – although he wasn’t sure how well curry powder went with the stir fry he was constructing. Stuart felt like he had done fairly well with what he had, digging out some soy sauce and a few leaves of sad looking coriander.

“Mmm,” Steve intoned a while later, entering the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Stuart’s back as he stirred the contents of the pan. Stuart leaned back into Steve’s touch as Steve nuzzled into his neck. The whole scene must have looked like a movie; it would have been a cliché if it weren’t just for themselves, and totally real. Hollywood wouldn’t ever cast them together anyway; two gangly six foot seven men that spent half their lives miles too far apart but somehow always came perfectly back together. Even if either of them had been writing the story of their lives, they wouldn’t have thought they’d get so lucky, but sometimes fate had better ideas than either screenwriters or two dopey cricketers.

“Stir fry?” Steve asked, sniffing the air.  
“That’s not a stir fry,” Stuart retorted, and when Steve cocked his head, confused, Stuart added, “That’s a bloody miracle given what you had in the fridge.”  
Steve chuckled, the sound low and sweet, then he spun Stuart around and putting one large hand around his neck, kissed him deeply, like the movie of their life was reaching its dreamy climax. When Steve let him go, Stuart’s legs went weak, and he almost fell into the stove. It was mad that Steve could have this effect on him even after nine years together. Although it wasn’t really nine years, not really, not solidly, and they didn’t really count it like that, not with proper anniversaries or milestones like a more normal relationship might have. If they had, they would have formally moved in with each other by now, instead of keeping clothes in each other’s wardrobes, toothbrushes in each other’s bathrooms, keys in pockets but mostly living out of a suitcase in hotel rooms. If they had a ‘traditional’ relationship, if such things even existed anymore, they might have talked about marriage, kids. But here they were, barely spending more than a few weeks at a time together, hardly anyone besides their families and close friends even knowing they were together; an imperfect life but somehow in it finding their little patches of paradise. They ate slowly, talking about nothing in particular, trying not to wonder about what the future might hold, just slowly uncoiling, easing and stretching out into the comfortable silences. They left the washing up for the morning and crawled into bed, curling up together, and falling asleep with Stuart running his hands through Steve’s hair, which was his own version of a comfort blanket.


	3. Go Hard or Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brinn get cosy but not necessarily in a fun way. It isn't always smooth sailing living together...

Stuart slept late and peacefully, without dreaming or even moving, and by the time he emerged from the bedroom, Steve had cleaned up the kitchen, and been out to fetch them croissants and made up a pot of coffee, he even looked freshly shaved. He looked up from the paper he was reading, and wolf whistled at Stuart, Stuart scowled before catching a look at his wild bed head in his reflection in the toaster, and getting a mild fright, which made Steve eve more pleased with himself. Steve reached out to Stuart without getting up, “Come here, Sleeping Beauty,” and Stuart duly obliged, gladly returning Steve’s kiss, tasting the mint of his toothpaste.  
“Sorry, morning breath,” Stuart blushed, pulling away, but Steve took his face and pulled it back towards his lips, kissing him fully again, and not letting up for a while.  
“I’ve kissed you after that Dirty Pint that Swanny made you drink,” Steve whispered, “I’ve kissed you after you’ve eaten garlic prawns, I’ve kissed you after you’ve had my cock in your mouth, I can kiss you with morning breath.”  
Stuart scoffed, “Charming as always.”  
Steve giggled guiltily, handing Stuart a coffee and a croissant as a sort of apology. Stuart accepted the peace offering, chewing happily and only half-resisting as Steve lovingly smoothed down his hair.

They spent the rest of the morning pottering around the flat, reading the paper and doing DIY that Steve needed another person to do. This mainly involved Stuart pretending to know the difference between the two samples of paint Steve had picked out for the bathroom, grumpily holding onto the end of a measuring tape and then holding the nails as Steve hammered them in for a shelf. After lunch, Stuart was getting a bit antsy, not from hanging out with Steve, he could do that forever, he just really hated any form of practical housework. He was hopeless at it too, always anxious he was going to cause an irreversible fuck-up and Steve would be trying not to blame him for, but secretly end up seething.

They decided to go on a long run in the afternoon, taking advantage of the nearby spacious Hampstead Heath with its various back paths and long, slogging hills. They were both horribly competitive, pushing each other to the point of exhaustion until they collapsed onto each other laughing at the bottom of one of the park’s steeper slopes. Steve tried to recover his breath, one arm draped lazily across Stuart’s tight abdomen rising and falling rapidly with Stuart’s breath. Steve eventually sat up, leaning over Stuart, leering as he took in his sweaty but no less handsome form. Looking round, he risked a brief peck before collapsing onto the grass. They lay there for a short while in the spring sunshine before Stuart got up and offered a hand to haul Steve up too, which Steve resisted with a groan, remaining on the floor.  
“I hope you’re not too exhausted,” Stuart grinned, raising his eyebrows.  
Steve smirked back, raising his eyebrows, “And why would that be?”  
“Because ECB have sent us a load of S&C exercises to do,” Stuart quipped, knowing exactly what he was doing.  
Steve groaned again, much louder this time but took Stuart’s offer of a hand to stand up.  
“Yep, Middlesex have a bunch of pre-season stuff for us too, I guess I could join you.”  
Stuart nodded, and began to break into a light jog back to the house. But Steve wasn’t happy leaving the matter there, because he ran past Stuart and turned to face him, trying to keep a straight face as he said simply, “But then: we get our reward.”  
Steve turned to face forwards and started running again, and Stuart sprinted to catch up, knowing he’d follow Steve anywhere, whether or not that he’d just made that delectable offer.

* * *

The enthusiasm they brought home quickly dissipated when they realised the logistics of exercising in Steve’s place were actually quite complicated, especially with them both doing separate routines and two grumpy cats roaming between them eager for attention and not taking too kindly to being ignored. Steven and Stuart negotiated exercise areas, rolling out exercise mats and opening up the French doors onto the balcony to give them some more wiggle room. But with the addition of headphones for each of them, both unwilling to listen to each other’s music, things only got more difficult. Add sweat, free weights, an iPad propped up precariously and the aforementioned ill-tempered cats dodging the flailing limbs of their six foot seven housemates, and you got a recipe for disaster. What started as an apologetic smile and a tender arm around the waist to shift around each other, became muttering under breath as a weight came whiskers away from hitting whiskers, then loud swearing as a toe very much made contact with the arm of a sofa, which caused an equally alarmed reaction and subsequent slipping to the floor. By the time they had both sort of got through their own regimens, there was a thick air of ill feeling between the two human and two feline members of the household and post-workout intimacies between Steve and Stuart were off the table, Steve slamming into the bathroom for a solo shower while Stuart took a walk around the block to calm down, and the cats went to sulk in the bedroom.

By the time Steve came out of the shower, Stuart was ready to make peace – how Steve looked with hair slicked back, water dripping down his torso and a towel round his waist certainly helped; Stuart was only human. Stuart wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and Steve pretended to be annoyed, wanting to hold out just a little longer, “Get off me, sweaty,” Steve teased, screwing up his face and trying his best to look grumpy. Stuart knew Steve far too well and held firm, moving his hands to Steve’s face and holding him there, “Sorry for being annoying.”  
“Hmph,” Steve shrugged, as if there was any doubt he was going to give in.  
“Come on you muppet, I’ve already bought the cats’ forgiveness with treats.”  
“The girls have higher standards than that.”  
“Oh right, should I be sending them flowers then?”  
Steve pouted at this, “I did that once! I was on tour and I missed them. You said it was cute!”  
“It was baby, why do you think I paid for it?”  
Steve blushed, he had forgotten that part, “Oh yeah. Thanks, I guess.”  
Stuart smirked and risked leaning in for a kiss, luckily Steve was ready to make up and melted into Stuart, briefly losing all sense of his surroundings, of time, and of himself as they found each other once more in their kiss.  
“Okay, get in the shower, I’ll feed the ladies, see if I can get back in their good books.”  
Stuart grinned and slipped into the bathroom, glad to have their tension somewhat sorted, although in his head, he was already plotting a more permanent solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another chapter all set to go so you won't have to wait too long for an update!


	4. Home Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart and Steve rehash their Notts vs. London argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I found out the name of Finny's other cat! She's Ethel, I knew it was some old lady name! And of course, like Finny, she's cute AF. I had to go and edit this because I'm crazy that way.

Clearly trying to dissipate any remaining tension between them, by the time Stuart emerged from the shower, Steve had dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, lit some candles and was in the process of selecting a playlist from his phone. Stuart felt more than a little underdressed in his Forest shorts and one of Steve’s Middlesex training tops but Steve stopped what he was doing, and wolf-whistled at Stuart, making a show of looking up and down Stuart’s legs, “Hashtag legs for daaaaays.”  
Stuart shook his head but couldn’t help chuckling, Steve had that way of making him totally comfortable like he was exactly where he meant to be, as if he could come just as he was, and that it would be enough.  
“Well,” Steve continued, when he had finished leering at Stuart, “I checked in the fridge and no chance of a second miracle with dinner,” Steve grinned cheekily as he thought of something, “There will be no Second Coming. At least not until after dinner.”  
Stuart rolled his eyes and put his hands absentmindedly on Steve’s shoulders and squeezed, “Deliveroo it is then. Pizza?”  
Stuart swiped on his phone, already halfway through building a pizza on the app, not noticing the face Steve was making, “Come on, pizza’s a waste here, we’ve got Afghani round the corner, there’s this new Czech place that’s pretty good, or the Lebanese place, you liked that I thought?”  
Stuart made a face, scrunching up his nose, and now it was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, as he bit back, not entirely breezily, “Such a basic bitch, Stu. We’re in the city now bumpkin”  
Sensing the tone, Stuart gritted his teeth and aimed for a placatory response, “Thai then, compromise.”  
“Fine. The place by the station does do a great papaya salad. Oo and they have this Malay Chicken Laksa too.”

Steve put a hand to Stuart’s chest as he passed him, it was meant as a reassurance but Stuart didn’t melt into the contact like he usually did. Stuart went about ordering Steve’s food that he’d never heard of, adding a Pad Thai for himself and some spring rolls that he knew Steve would end up eating with him. Meanwhile Steve put on some music, and sank into the sofa, beckoning Stuart towards him. Stuart decided to put aside any vague annoyance he was feeling, he was trying to butter Steve up after all if he was going to get him to agree to his newly constructed plan. As he sidled over he noticed the thick beats pouring out from the Bluetooth speaker and asked casually as he settled into Steve’s arms, “What’s this playlist? New stuff?”  
“Grime babe. And not particularly, it’s pretty mainstream now. I mean Kano did Glastonbury.”  
“The only Kano I know captains New Zealand, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know those words,” Stuart quipped indicating the speaker, “Actually I’m pretty sure I don’t either, what’s yute?”  
Steve laughed and ruffled Stuart’s hair before realising his boyfriend wasn’t joking.”  
“It’s youth. Jesus, Stu,” Steve had to shake his head; Stuart was even more sheltered than he thought.  
Stuart crawled into Steven’s chest, huffing, “We would not be having this trouble with Gaga.”  
Steve’s chest vibrated with laughter, disturbing Stuart’s comfort, “Stu they won’t take away your gay card if you go a day without listening to her, you know that right? Especially not after that thing you did to me in the shower yesterday. That gets your membership upgraded actually.”  
Stuart sat up and scowled, “I like her, I’m sorry if that’s too cliché for you.”  
Steve cuddled Stuart back into him, “Come on, this’ll do you good.”

Stuart knew that he wasn’t winning this particular argument so he settled back into Steve’s lap and bit his lip thoughtfully, wondering what the best plan of attack was. So far this evening, they had disagreed on just about everything and he was worried that if he brought up his idea now: about moving up to his place, at least while they were stuck at home for god knows how long, that Steve would turn it into another London vs. Nottingham thing, and stubbornly refuse to concede any ground, as if every step he took outside the M25 was a betrayal of everything he stood for. So Stuart began to slowly make circles on Steve’s legs with his delicate fingers, as Steve tapped out the relentless beat of the song on Stuart’s shoulder.

The food came and Steven seemed happy enough, maybe his prickly mood was just him being hungry? He’d certainly had form on that score. Steve didn’t even make fun of Stuart for choosing Pad Thai, merely smirked at him selecting a fork instead of the chopsticks that came with the meal, and happily tucked into the spring rolls too. They drank beers and ate, Steve chatting away about how many times in the last week he’d beaten Sam Robson at FIFA (13) and how unlucky Watford had been that season (very). Stuart didn’t say much but he was listening, he was just running other things through his mind at the same time. He finished his food, and reached out for Steve’s hand and held it, looking up soppily at his partner’s candlelit face.  
Steve raised an eyebrow, “What’s up?” Steven asked before burping loudly, somewhat ruining the mood, although they were accustomed enough to each other’s rough edges by now for Stuart not to be seriously put off.  
“I was just thinking…” Stuart trailed off, almost giving enough space for Steve to interject but saw him coming just in time to head him off at the pass, “Dangerous, I know.”  
Steve took a sip from his beer, annoyed at having been pre-empted, “Go on.”  
“I know you love it down here, but what if we went up to Notts? At least for a bit.”

Steve withdrew his hand, not fiercely, but deliberately. This sounded like the beginning of an argument they’d had far too many times. When Steve stopped being picked for England, he’d been low about it for a while but the additional pain was not spending time with Stuart anymore. Instead of long tours together, passionate nights in hotel rooms, and date nights in incredible restaurants round the world, they had Facetiming over crappy connections, and Steve bowling in front of a handful of crusty old MCC members on a freezing day in April. When it all became too painful, they’d had the conversation: what if they played for the same county? Then at least, when Stuart was home, they could be together, properly; living together, long walks, arguing over food shopping, Sunday roasts in the pub; the whole bit. But Stuart was too attached to Notts, the history, his Dad, Trent Bridge. And Steve loved London; the culture, the buzz, art galleries and theatres and stuff going on. What it came down to, Steve said, was that he wasn’t willing to stare out at fields like a war widow waiting for her husband to come home, in whatever broken shape that was, paying for the pleasure of seeing him again with months of pain, and, that Stuart wasn’t willing to break with the past to bet on his future. Stuart insisted that wasn’t true, but there was a tiny, ugly part of him that resented Steve for dropping out of the England setup, it was so much easier for them back then. Stuart had no desire to re-run this argument but they could be stuck at home like this for a while, and everything that Steve loved about London could easily be gone tomorrow with all the world shutting up its doors around them.

“I’m not starting this fight again, I promise,” Stuart jumped in before Steve said anything. Steve eyed him suspiciously at this, but waited for Stuart to explain himself.  
“I just think… we don’t know what’s happening but we might be like this for a while. And we could be stuck inside for a bit, do we really want to be tripping over each other here?”  
Steve frowned unsure, but pensive.  
Stuart seized the rare silence and went full-on salesman, “We could spread out… see some nature… I’ve got a bowling net in the garden… we could fulfil your barn sex fantasy…”  
Steve jumped in, “You do not have a barn,” and then after a pause, “And I don’t have a barn sex fantasy.”  
“Took a while to deny it though didn’t you?” Stuart grinned, triumphant.  
Steve seemed to be searching for a reason to object, “What about the cats?”  
“They love it there!” Stuart argued, clearly not even considering the possibility of leaving them behind, and Steve had to smile at this before clarifying,  
“Well, Mabel loves it there. I think I’m permanently scarred from her nocturnal hunting and gathering. I think Ethel barely notices, as long as her food bowl is full.”  
“A girl of simple tastes, I can identify,” Stuart retorted, feeling safe to tease Steve now, although he received a balled up napkin thrown in his face for his efforts.  
Stuart thought he was really getting somewhere but Steve wasn’t ready to concede yet, “What if we get called into training or a meeting?”  
Stuart found the notion of anything as normal as training completely ludicrous but he was careful not to get too serious, “You want me to text Morgs and ask for permission?”  
Steve snorted, “Morgs knows bugger all about what’s going on at Middlesex bless him. Last season, he came back for the Blast and I genuinely couldn’t place him for a minute. Just kind of stared.”  
Stuart gave his boyfriend a querying look as if he was seriously worried about him, and Steve shook his head, moving on, “Point is, you’re better off texting Petey Handsome in Oz to find out what’s going on, and he hasn’t even started yet.”  
“Who?” Stuart asked, his confusion deepening.  
“Peter Handscomb,” Steve intoned, as if Stuart was being quite dense, ”Our new Skip, do you listen to anything I say?”  
“And you lot are calling him Petey Handsome?”  
“Well, *I’m* calling him that.” Steve grinned cheekily and Stuart scowled petulantly.  
Stuart stepped around the table and grabbed Steve’s hands, feeling the mood shift.  
“If there’s some last minute training, I will drive you back immediately. Promise”

Stuart pulled Steve towards him until he was standing with his hands on Stuart’s hips then blinked up at him, the barely one-inch height difference making his trying to seem adorable act quite difficult.  
“So will you think about it babe?” Stuart asked, pouting slightly.  
“Damn you,” Steve said chuckling slightly; he might just do anything for this man in front of him.  
Stuart sensed the tide turning towards him and couldn’t help but grin, pleased with himself.  
Sensing he was losing the upper hand, Steve added, as if he had just thought of it, “You know what might give me some real food for thought?”  
Stuart’s grin stretched out even further, “I have an inkling of a couple of persuasive arguments I could make, yeah.”  
Steve kissed Stuart, wrapping his arms tightly around his boyfriend’s waist as Stuart slid his arms around Steve’s neck. The grime playlist came to a stop, as the last beat became silence, but the men barely noticed, they just kept on kissing as if the outside world and whatever craziness was out there was nothing more than background noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I had to put *some* conflict in here you guys. As you can see, it didn't last long.


	5. Homeward bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Stuart head to Nottingham, and finally get round to talking about the Jos and Joe situation.

They packed quickly the next morning, having been far too occupied to get to it the night before. Eager to get on now that they had decided, and now that he had been so thoroughly persuasive in his final arguments, Stuart buzzed around annoyingly, ‘helping’.  
“You can just share my clothes, and you have heaps of stuff up there, just throw a couple of pants and socks in and let’s go.”  
“I want my own stuff, I can’t shove your Notts kit on if I have to film my workout for Mitchy or do an interview. That wouldn’t go down well.”  
Stuart huffed, and put his hands on his hips, wanting to say something, “I’ll get your chargers.”  
Steve sighed, trying to be patient, “Just… get the girls’ stuff ready. I’ll finish and come help you put them in their crates – that’s a two-man job.”  
Steve laughed remembering recruiting poor Tom Helm on an day off on the promise of a tee-time in order to help get the cats in their carry cases for a check up at the vets. Poor Helmy looked terrified and twitchy the rest of the day after that encounter and Steve wiped the floor with him on the green.  
“They’re in. Ready to go, so we are just waiting on you.”  
“Wow,” Steve blinked in shock, “They really do love you.”  
“I’m very lovable,” Stuart grinned, poking his tongue out the corner of his mouth.  
“Oh yeah that’s it,” Steve conceded, adding, “But right now you’re pissing me off. Go make us a thermos of coffee or something.”  
Stuart made a grumbling noise but acquiesced and left Steve to his packing. Steve smiled to himself, he couldn’t blame Stuart really, he was just as excited to start this bizarre domestic adventure they were about to embark on. As crazy as these times were, maybe this was a sort of strange sort of blessing for the two of them, to actually spend time together. Given everything going on, that sounded pretty fucked up, and Steve would never acknowledge the notion out loud but this might just be the making of them.

After a short argument about who was going to drive – they were both insured on each other’s cars and had the good fortune not to have to change the driver’s seat position – Steve acquiesced to Stuart driving on the condition that he could pick the music, agreeing rather nobly he thought not to put on grime. Steve found an Indie playlist that Stuart was happy enough with and they were soon out on the motorway, and the cats who had mewled in terror every time Stuart indicated while winding through London streets now seemed to be settling down for lengthy naps. Steve put a hand behind Stuart’s neck as he drove and Stuart relaxed into it, and smiled as he sped along.

The dreamy peace of the motorway, the music and two men in love was disturbed by a series of pings from Steve’s phone. Steve read through the messages with a snorted laugh and then a sort of confused sound that Stuart couldn’t tell if it was coming from Steve or the cats; if he were a cartoon character there would have been question marks appearing above his head.  
Stuart frowned, and briefly looked over at Steve, “What’s up babe? You look like Jimmy just asked you for a crossword answer.”  
Steve turned fully in his seat towards Stuart and asked slowly, carefully, “Um Stu, what does Jos mean ‘now that Joe knows about you and Broady?’”  
“Well that’s an incomplete sentence so I’m not sure he means anything.”  
Steve cuffed Stuart around the head, “Alright Smart Alec.”  
“I told you about this… Didn’t I? When I first came home?”  
“I must have missed that between you putting your tongue in my various orifices.”  
Stuart blushed automatically although there was no one around to hear, followed by a strangely proud smile.  
He coughed slightly, and then eyed the sign they passed, “Why don’t we pull over for a coffee? This is kind of a long story.”

After folding their lengthy lower limbs under a secluded picnic table in the outer limits of a service area, and pouring out some coffee into the ridiculously little cup that comes at the top of the thermos, Stuart told Steve what happened at the Heathrow hotel with Joe and Jos and waited for Steve’s “I told you so.”  
Steve didn’t say anything; indeed he had no immediate reaction apart from blowing on his coffee again.  
“So you were right, then,” Stuart prompted.  
“Yeah. They’ve been together since Oz came over two summers ago and got their butts kicked,”  
Stuart smiled at the memory, even though he hadn’t been involved in the ODI team in years, it was always great to beat Australia.  
“Jos told you then?”  
“Not like straight up – pardon the expression – but I’ve known Jos for ages. And I saw the way Joe stared at him. Probably couldn’t help himself after Jos’ Old Trafford ton. Can’t say I blame him.”  
Steve expected Stuart to object to Steve perving over one of his best mates but even Stuart had to admit,  
“That was a very sexy knock in fairness.”

There was a moment of silence as they drank from their coffees that were finally at a non-scalding temperature before Stuart, clearly still bugged by something, piped up, “But then if they’ve been together, what a year and a half, almost two, how come Jos never told Joe about us? He’s known for years. And honestly, I can personally vouch for Rooty’s shocked face the other day.”  
Steve shrugged as he poured himself another cup, “Jos is just that good a bloke I guess. He said he wouldn’t tell and he hasn’t.”  
Stuart shook his head, amazed, “Better than us at least, you told me Jos fancied Joe ages ago. We talked about him drunkenly coming out to you the night it happened.”  
Steve guiltily kicked at the floor, looking rather sheepish, “You’re allowed to tell your boyfriend stuff. It’s different.”  
“Jos didn’t.” Stuart reminded Steve.  
“Okay, Stu, whose side are you on?”  
“Yours! ** _Ours_**. I’m just saying clearly we’re not that great mates, are we? Maybe we should be more like Jos.”  
Steve giggled, “Hashtag BeMoreButt?”  
Stuart tried to remain serious, but he was struggling, “Exactly. Look at him, he’s so pure.”  
Steve almost choked on his coffee at that thought, “Not that pure. He told me in far too much detail about what he and Craig used to get up to on rainy days at Taunton.”  
“I forgot about him and Craig, what a messed up relationship. Imagine sleeping with your replacement, it’s like sleeping with a younger version of yourself. That’s pretty narcissistic.”  
“Now where did a pretty young thing like yourself learn a big long word like that?”  
Now it was Stuart’s turn to cuff Steve about the head but he was giggling along with Steve. They looked at each other sideways, clearly thinking the same thing.  
“Yeah, we’re bad people.”

“Well, in the spirit of being nicer people, better friends, Jos wants us to do a double date over Facetime with him and Joe. How does that sound to you?”  
Stuart made a face, “Fucking awful if I’m honest.”  
Steve grinned triumphantly; he knew Stuart too well.  
“But,” Stuart continued after a sigh, “I guess we do owe him one.”  
“Yep.” Steve affirmed.  
“And I guess you’re going to make me do it anyway so I may as well agree now.”  
“Yep,” Steve repeated, loving that after all these years, Stuart understood their shorthand and they could skip over the boring arguing part and Steve could just get his own way. Steve loved to win.

Steve downed the rest of his coffee, and they both went back to the car, gave the cats some more treats and then carried on down the M1 to Stuart’s place, squabbling good naturedly over the best route as Steve took pictures of Stuart’s ‘sexy driving face’ and sent them to Jos who returned videos of Joe working out in far too tight Sheffield United shorts. Steve winced but didn’t show them to Stuart, and was feeling rather proud of his discretion. They picked up some bits and bobs of food for their next few days in a out of town, nicely anonymous Tesco on their way in and pulled into Stuart’s driveway around lunchtime.

Steve got the cats settled in, which involved simply letting them in to the house, having Ethel fall promptly back to sleep on Stuart’s sofa, and Mabel ran into the garden, no doubt already regressing to her baser instincts. Meanwhile Stuart threw together some lunch and they ate happily while planning out their afternoon.  
“You want to go for a run?” Stuart suggested, “I get all antsy after driving.”  
“I know.”  
Stuart smiled at the familiarity, it was nice to not have to explain himself all the time, for someone to know all his ins and outs, his quirks and habits, and love him in spite of them, or even because of them – it was like an energy boost just when he was at a low ebb.  
“Yeah, sure,” Steve agreed.  
Stuart waggled his eyebrows, “We could see if there’s a barn nearby.”  
Steve glared at Stuart but after a moment, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is-is there a barn nearby?”  
Stuart chuckled, “Maybe.”  
There was a millisecond of silence before Steve prompted, “Well, Stu, is there-“  
“Yes, Steve, there is,” Stuart sighed, mystery was clearly out of the question for them at this stage but they didn’t really care. They quickly tidied their lunch plates away and changed into running gear at rapid speed, showing an enthusiasm for their workout that would have made their coaches proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt like a bit of a slow one but I'll speed things up a bit now that they're at Stuart's. Hope you like it anyways. 
> 
> FYI Mitchy is the Middlesex S&C coach Andy Mitchell who I'm just presuming they call Mitchy. And if you don't have an intimate knowledge of the Middlesex squad Tom Helm is a young bowler who looks like he would be quite easily scared by cats or anything really. He's actually bloody brilliant and just made the England 55-Man Squad for this summer so I'm actually very proud of him and yes I miss cricket a lot okay.


	6. Hit Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart and Steve settle in - and then there's the small thing of their double date with Joe and Jos.

For the most part, their first few days passed like the dizzy domestic dream they both hoped for; cosy breakfasts in bed, spatially distant exercise routines, playing with the cats on the living room floor, cuddles in the kitchen, fiercely competitive bowling sessions into Stuart’s nets that always descended into giggles and plenty of sex. Indoors. Because after an awkward attempt that first attempt when Stuart declared it “far too cold”, Steve realised he had perhaps glamorised the setting and it was actually quite muddy, and they abandoned the whole thing after a quick grope.

It wasn’t all perfect, there was the time they had been having a romantic evening on the sofa with wine and a film when Mabel interrupted their make-out session by dropping a very much alive mouse onto them both. Then there was the dinner when Steve insisted the salad Stuart had made was delicious but kept choking and making horrible gurning expressions whenever he came upon an anchovy. And then there was the time that Steve really didn’t think was a big deal but Stuart had been so embarrassed that he hid in the bedroom. Steve had been sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea of an afternoon and Stuart had come off a session on his Pelaton bike topless and singing Rhianna at top volume, he came up behind Steve and pulled his head back for a full on kiss. It was only when he heard a Brummie voice squeak out, “Alright Broady?” that he realised Chris Woakes was on Facetime propped up on Steve’s phone on the table. Stuart froze, whispered hello almost inaudibly and then shuffled off. Steve rolled his eyes; Chris had known about them both for while, granted he’d never really seen them _together_ but Woaksey was the loveliest person in the world and not at all bothered. His cheeks were going red when Steve turned back to him but then again, his cheeks were almost always going red; it was probably the second-hand embarrassment from Stuart.

They chatted for a few more minutes until Chris’ wife Amie popped their toddler on Chris’ chest and after poking at the screen a few times and smiling at Steve, she became fidgety, ignoring Steve making cutsey noises at her and trying to wriggle away from her Dad.  
“I better go Finny, I think you’ve terrified Laila with your big beak.”  
“Ha dee ha. Well I better go find Sulky Pants. Good chatting to you.”  
“You too mate,”  
“I was talking to Laila actually.”  
It was Chris’ turn to scowl but he was too good-natured to take the tease badly, “Good luck with Broady.”  
“Yeah, I always need it. See ya.”  
Finny cut the call and made his way to the bedroom to cheer up his melodramatic boyfriend. Steve knocked on the door and made his way in to see Stuart scowling with his knees bunched up to his chest. Steve was trying so hard not to laugh but when Stuart stuck his lip out petulantly he couldn’t help himself, which really didn’t help Stuart’s mood.

“Baby,” Steve started, forcing down giggles, “Baby, come on, it’s just Woakesy. You can’t seriously be upset.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“You didn’t give me much of a chance, pal.”  
“Don’t call me pal, it’s weird.”  
“Sorry babe, but come on, Woaksey is one of the few people we can be open with.”  
This struck something with Stuart; he uncoiled himself and turned to face Steve who was sat on the edge of the bed. He shuffled a little closer and then put his hands on Steve’s knees.  
“You’re right, I- I’m sorry. We- does it bother you that people don’t know?”  
Steve shrugged and looked at his lap before looking up at Stuart, “It used to, but that’s not where I get our worth from. It’s… we’re more than that. Who knows, who doesn’t. It doesn’t make us any less real.”  
Stuart smiled, a little sadly, then reached up for Steve’s neck, “I love you,” he said simply and kissed Steve’s forehead before nuzzling into Steve’s neck, wrapping himself up in him.  
“Yeah, I love you too,” Steve whispered back.  
They let the moment rest there, not immediately undercutting it with humour, as they were both fond of doing. They sat there quietly, arms round each other, heads round the problems of the world, until their backs had gone stiff and their legs went numb.

At the end of the week, they had their double date with the Josephs lined up over Zoom. They’d decided on proper collared long-sleeved shirts and Gin & Tonics, though Stuart made Steve text Jos to check they wouldn’t turn on video to find the other two wearing tracksuits.  
“No, this is a proper double date,” Steve insisted.  
“Yeah, you’re right. Proper.” Stuart agreed, kissing Steve on the cheek, humming as he put on cologne before going downstairs, he seemed to be looking forward to it, and it made Steve’s heart sing, he was almost laughing out loud in surprise. But then as soon as they sat down, the Stuart he was more familiar with remerged, gulping as if struggling for air, and cheeks heating up. Steve put his hand on Stuart’s leg and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “It’s just Joe and Jos, I know it’s… a strange setting. But you’ve got me sitting next to you, so just breathe okay?”  
Stuart nodded, clearly not wholly convinced.  
Steve leant in with his face on Stuart’s shoulder and whispered, “And if things go badly wrong, just pretend our Internet is acting up.”  
Stuart smiled at that and felt safe again, Steve had that way of grounding him, of making him realise that anywhere – whether it was the changing room at an noisy Indian ground or a characterless hotel room in New Zealand or his own sofa – it could feel like home if Steve was there next to him.

Jos and Joe were already waiting for them when they connected, with the England skipper looking just as uncomfortable as Stuart. The sight of Joe on edge made Stuart feel a bit calmer, given how many times he had been on the wrong end of one of Joe’s pranks, or waiting around in the field until Joe deigned to throw him the ball for another spell, or glaring as Joe dodged another fitness drill to talk tactics with the coaches, Stuart really liked seeing Joe being uncomfortable and unsure for once.  
“Evening boys,” Stuart said with a small smile, taking a big sip of G&T and relaxing into Steve’s arm on the back of the sofa.  
“Hi,” Steve greeted, waving goofily.  
“Broady, Finny, how are you?” Jos was smiling, trying really hard to engage.  
“Good, yeah.” Steve answered.  
Joe drank deeply from his beer and said nothing until Jos poked him into action, furiously whispering, “Be normal.”  
Stuart smirked, Steve cringed in sympathy, Joe sputtered into action, like an ancient engine fighting against decades of dust, “Alright lads?” Joe’s Northern charm intact, that was untouchable.  
“Yeah, we’re alright Rooty… Are you?” Stuart’s tone had a suppressed chuckle to it and Steve could read it like a recipe. He gave Stuart a look that said, “Be nice,” and Stuart bit his lip, suitably chastised.

Steve decided to take the lead, “Look I know that this is awkward as arse.”  
Everyone laughed at that, Joe especially sounded like a too full balloon finally letting out air, it sounded like relief, like a release of something.  
“But,” Steve continued, “there’s no secrets anymore. We can just relaxed, be mates,”  
There was a silent but understood assent to Steve’s terms and in that spirit, Steve continued, “By the way, I can’t believe you never told Joe about us, Jos.”  
Jos shrugged, “You asked me not to,” as if that was all that mattered.  
“You’re too good for this world, Jos,” Steve affirmed and Stuart nodded in agreement.  
“You’ve got yourself a good man there, Joe.” Stuart offered, finding his voice.  
“I know,” Joe smiled, snaking an arm around Jos and kissing him on the cheek as he blushed deeply.  
“And I really didn’t have a clue,” Joe added, “Well, I had half a clue, I remember thinking you looked cosy. But I thought it might be a bowler thing. You lot are weird”  
Steve and Stuart almost choked on their drinks.  
“Yeah, well,” Steve retorted when he recovered, “You know us fast bowlers, all super tactile, just look at Jimmy, a big cuddly bear that one.”

  
“You just thank your lucky stars you weren’t around in 2012 for South Africa, Joe,” Jos piped up, “They were all over each other then.”  
Stuart made a vague noise of objection as Joe giggled away, but Steve conceded, “Babe to be fair, we were. Remember the rain delays.”  
Stuart bit his lip and raised his eyebrow, saying pensively. “That was a **_very_** wet summer.”  
Everyone howled with laughter and Stuart realised what he’d just said and scowled, “That’s not what I- oh, sod you lot.”  
Jos went on, “Well it was my debut, I thought it was some sort of initiation thing.”  
Steve stared at his friend on screen, “I don’t want to begin to wonder what you mean by that.”  
Jos shrugged and got up to refresh his and Joe’s drinks.  
Joe didn’t seem to mind being left alone, he seemed to barely notice Jos was gone, his whole demeanour completely relaxed now, even excited, “So was that when you first got together then?” Joe asked eagerly.  
Steve snorted, “Hardly.”  
“Adelaide, 2010,” Stuart revealed with a smile.  
“We were drunk,” Steve continued, picking up the story.  
“Very drunk,” Stuart interjected.  
“Yeah, it was all very classy, we fell on top of each other in the hotel corridor at three in the morning. And the rest as they say is history.”  
“So romantic,” Jos teased, rejoining them.  
There was a small silence before Joe prompted, “Well aren’t you going to ask us?”  
“Ask you what?” Stuart cocked his head, genuinely perplexed.  
“Well, how we got together.”  
Steve and Stuart caught each other’s eye and smiled and Stuart leant forward, “Let me guess, 24th June 2018?”  
“Old Trafford dressing room, roughly thirty minutes after Jos’ ton?” Steve went on.  
Jos went bright red again and Joe spluttered, “How did you-?”  
Steve and Stuart grinned at each other and said in unison, “That was a very sexy knock in fairness.”  
Steve and Stuart giggled guiltily as Joe and Jos just stared at them.  
“You guys are weird,” Joe stated, “You’re like an old married couple.”  
Steve shrugged, draining his drink and getting up to get another, wordlessly taking Stuart’s empty glass from his hands, but Stuart had a strange look on his face, a hesitant, preoccupied but kind of hopeful smile that lingered there as the talk shifted to football and fitness, and long into the evening after their double date with Joe and Jos was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this chapter - it's been rainy and miserable here so ideal writing conditions.


	7. Home is where the heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart's big plan comes to fruition on Steve's birthday...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it!; the big chapter I was building to from the start. This is epically long for me, so I hope it was worth the wait. Enjoy!

Stuart was a good liar; sometimes he was even great. It wasn’t a trait to be proud of exactly, but for most of his life, it had been a necessary one. Whether it was creating never all that detailed responses to questions from his mates at school about mythical girlfriends, or dodging teammates trying to set him up with perfectly lovely women, or inventing excuses to always be around Steve, Stuart could lie just like breathing. The only person that had never been fooled by it was his sister Gemma, from a young age she could tell that there was pain behind Stuart’s easy words, she could tell he wasn’t happy when he told away not bringing a partner home for Christmas with a busy fixture schedule. She had been the first person Stuart came out to, and a constant supporter ever since, her being part of the England staff was such a comfort to him, especially when Steve wasn’t there anymore. Stuart had a lot to be grateful to Gem for, and if Stuart’s latest plan came good, he would have even more of a reason to be in her debt.

But being with Steve for an extended period had Stuart a bit out of practice with his skills of deception, because he didn’t lie to Steve, like ever. They had some really fucked up and hard conversations because of it but it had also made them what they were. But as much as Stuart was grateful for the open and honest strength of their relationship, when you were living with your partner and only your partner (plus two spoilt cats) and literally unable to leave the house, it makes planning a surprise for them quite difficult. And it wasn’t just any surprise, like a nice watch as a birthday gift or making a favourite meal for an anniversary; it was the biggest surprise, perhaps the biggest moment of his life. Certainly it was up there; Test Debut, Ashes series win in Australia, proposal, in no particular order.

Not that Stuart had a plan at all really, but he had the start and it was Gemma and her latest side hustle in making jewellery that Stuart had in mind. A symptom of lockdown madness she self-deprecatingly called it, but Stuart knew she had a real talent and rather counter-intuitively to her stats-based job, she was actually amazingly creative. So when Steve was busy playing on FIFA, and swearing loudly at Sam Robson down his headset, Stuart rolled his eyes, ruffled Steve’s hair lovingly then ducked out to call Gemma.  
“What is it Stu? Your text made me nervous.” Gemma asked as soon as Stuart got her on the phone.  
“It’s nothing bad Gem,” he reassured her, “It’s good. It’s very good. At least I hope it is.”  
“You’re talking in riddles, Stu, being clever doesn’t suit you.”  
Stuart huffed, annoyed, he was used to his kid sister making fun of him; they had a typical sibling relationship that way, teasing disguising a deep devotion to each other.  
“Steve isn’t here, you can’t gang up on me.”  
“Why, what have you done with him?”  
“He’s in the living room yelling obscenities at his teammate.”  
“Should I ask?”  
“Best not.”  
There was a pause while Stuart checked to see that Steve was still glued to the screen.  
“What do you want, Stuart?”  
“Charming.”  
“Stu, come on.”  
“Okay, okay.” Stuart took a breath before continuing, “I need a favour Gem, a big one, it’s about your jewellery.”  
“Do you want a pretty brooch? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me!”  
“Gem, shut up for two seconds. I want you to make… would you… I’d be honoured if you made me two engagement bands.”  
There was a squeal on the end of the phone so high pitched that Stuart had to hold the phone away from his face, and caused Steve to look around as if he might have inadvertently stepped on one of the cats.  
“Gem shut up,” Stuart whispered furiously.  
“Sorry, it’s just… oh my god, at last.”  
“At last?”  
“Stu you’ve been together what, nine years- and before you tell me it’s not nine years, not really, you’ve been in love with him all nine years, haven’t you?”  
Stuart coughed sheepishly, which was his awkward way of agreeing.  
“I’ve always known I loved him,” Stuart protested, “It’s not that. I’ve known for a long time we’d be together forever. It’s just…” Stuart struggled to explain exactly what he meant.  
“It’s just you’ve stopped caring what everyone else thinks about that?”  
Stuart shrugged, before realising that didn’t translate for a phone call, so he attempted to form a proper sentence, “Well yeah. I just know we can get through it, get though anything. Is that stupid?”  
There was a strange sound that it took a while for Stuart to realise was his sister crying.  
“Gemma, are you-“  
“I’m okay, I’m… great. Now what sort of rings would you like?”  
Stuart grinned and began to describe what he was thinking for engagement bands, something simple but elegant. He trusted Gemma to come up with something perfect and although that was just one part of the preparation, Stuart felt so much better to have it sorted. The rings were going to be such an important symbol for Stuart, both something for them to look at to be sure and certain of their future, and as an outward symbol to the world, something Stuart finally felt comfortable putting out into it.

Then Stuart started thinking, really thinking about how and when he would do it; Gemma would need time to make the rings, and then there was Steve’s birthday in a couple of weeks. _Steve’s birthday._ Was that a good idea or a terrible one? If it was Stuart’s birthday, there was no way he would want to share it, to make it about anything else, he loved being the centre of attention at times he had to admit, although at others, he really didn’t. But Steve was different, he got mushy on his birthday, reflective, and every birthday Stuart spent away from him broke him a little. Maybe Steve’s birthday was the perfect moment.

* * *

Stuart proceeded ‘as normal’, pestering Steve with what he wanted for his birthday (he said he wanted a surprise, and Stuart couldn’t help grinning to himself) so Stuart ordered some gaming headset as a foil. He thought about asking Steve for a menu choice but knew he’d get the standard “surprise me” response so instead agonized over what to serve – something classy but not too complicated, he wanted to stay in the moment, not spend the whole time worrying if his soufflés had fallen.

This was all fairly easy to keep hidden; the devil was - as always - in the details. Like when Gemma sent a picture of the finished rings and Stuart made the mistake of checking his phone in front of Steve, who asked what he was smiling at and then frowned when he said it was an inside family joke – Stuart felt bad about that one. Although Steve and Gemma were super close, Steve had never quite gelled with Stuart’s Dad who liked to clap Steve on the back, call him “lad” a lot and make sideways comments about soft southerners. Steve was convinced Chris didn’t think he was good enough for Stuart, which wasn’t actually true, Chris liked Steve a lot, he was just awkward and old-fashioned about affection. Stuart had inherited a lot of that but Steve had melted that away in him, so there was no hardness to him at all now.

More awkward still was when Stuart had been looking at proposal videos online for inspiration, and when Steve had wandered into their bedroom, Stuart slammed the laptop shut – _not at all suspicious, well done Stu_. Steve had simply laughed and said he wasn’t mad if Stuart was watching porn, as boyfriends who existed as long-distance for the most part, it was sort of an unwritten rule that it was allowed. Stuart reassured him he wasn’t looking at porn, not at that present moment. I mean there had been lonely nights on long tours, when the time zone didn’t work out for a sexy video chat and the bank of revealing selfies Steve had sent him were just not cutting it, he wasn’t a saint. But right now, as he affirmed to Steve, he didn’t need it when he had the real deal, and went about proving it – so much for his research.

* * *

Stuart couldn’t decide if he wanted to script everything or just wing it and go from the heart. Stuart wasn’t a very talkative person but he was pretty sure he could go on forever talking about his love for Steve, speak in verses, even sing – okay maybe that was too far but it was definitely his most knowledgeable subject. Then again, he didn’t want to freeze up and be unable to stutter out anything but the lyrics to Mambo No. 5, and he’d had a very visceral anxiety dream about that happening, waking up sweating and hyper-ventilating, which woke Steve who was less concerned about Stuart’s mental state and more annoyed at having been disturbed.

When the day came, Stuart woke Steve with a gentle kiss followed by a firm nip on his chin. Steve smiled big and wide without opening his eyes.  
“Happy birthday baby,” Stuart whispered and kissed Steve again.  
“Thank you.”  
Stuart traced a hand down Stuart’s chest, soon realising that Steve was already very awake.  
Not forgetting that the whole day was about treating Steve, and his plan for tonight was merely the cherry on top, Stuart slithered down Steve’s body and started to give Steve the first of his birthday gifts.

A good while later when Steve came down from his shower to find Stuart was making him breakfast, he laughed softly and pressed a kiss into Stuart’s neck as he expertly flipped pancakes.  
“You aren’t making a big deal of today, are you?” Steve asked bashfully, “It’s just 31, a lockdown birthday, I’m not expecting…”  
Steve trailed off, unsure what to say, and Stuart momentarily abandoned his work to turn around and kiss the worry off Steve’s face.  
“You don’t need to worry, it’s just quiet, it’s just us. It’ll be nice.”  
Steve nodded, understanding.  
Stuart turned back to his pan, continuing, “Besides, don’t think I can top last year.”  
Steve grinned at the memory; his thirtieth had truly been something else. Despite Steve’s birthday being on the eve of the county season, Stuart drove down to Northampton to surprise Steve and they had snuck out to a huge drunken party with all of their friends. The music and shots and dancing went long into the night, with Stuart gyrating onto Steve until the early hours. They had slept minimally before Stuart raced back up to Trent Bridge with a roaring hangover. Both had fared badly in the first day’s play, Stuart getting out for a duck and Steve bowling several expensive overs. Normally Steve would’ve loved that he was kept on even while not getting wickets, having the chance to prove himself, but he was not feeling it that day and he was sure Dawid had been punishing him, having sensed his less than peak condition – miserable bastard hadn’t been invited of course.

* * *

Stuart kept to his word, a nice quiet day; they took a long walk through the fields, had a nice picnic lunch, which mainly involved making out on a blanket until the wasps started going for the strawberries and they made a dash back to the house to pick up where they left off. In the afternoon, Steve went on the Peloton while Stuart did some weights and then Steve’s parents called for a birthday chat. Normally Stuart would have been happy to sit alongside Steve, sweaty as they were, and chat happily with his folks. They were easygoing, friendly people with huge hearts and Stuart had always felt like part of their family but today, Stuart was feeling weird. There was no part of him that thought he should have done anything like asking for their permission, that whole thing felt patriarchal, heteronormative and incredibly backward. But as time ticked down to the evening, he was getting more and more anxious and he started thinking Steve’s mum was looking at him strangely, as if she knew. This was probably his own anxiety and way off base but he couldn’t help feeling fidgety and nervous and soon ducked off to shower, “leaving them to some family time”.

When Steve was finished, Stuart was just emerging from the bathroom, having spent far too long having a word with himself in the mirror.  
“Fancy getting wet again?” Steve asked, grinning wolfishly.  
The offer was so tempting and despite contravening the birthday boy code, Stuart mustered his strength and shook his head.  
“Got to sort dinner,” he murmured apologetically, giving Steve a chaste kiss on the cheek.  
Steve pouted and huffed but didn’t say anything as he reluctantly slunk into the bathroom by himself.  
Stuart pulled on his lucky blue shirt and some tight dress slacks and slicked by his hair, giving himself a cursory nod of appreciation in the mirror before going downstairs to make his final preparations.

Stuart had been marinating their chicken since last night, the white wine was chilled (and expensive) and there was some champagne in an ice bucket for later. But Stuart wouldn’t be happy until everything was laid out and ready, including hiding the ring box behind a plant pot on the patio, then moving it, thinking that was too obvious and the first place Steve would look, then remembered that he was thinking of spare keys and that Steve wouldn’t be looking for anything, and put it back again. He got the barbecue set up, laid out the chicken and vegetables next to it, put the potato dauphinois in the oven, double checked the barbecue, then had a quick sherry for his nerves. Steve constantly made fun of him for liking sherry, like he was an elderly widow steadying her nerves after a bad fright, but it felt comforting to him.

When Steve descended, dressed in tight black jeans and a crisp white shirt, his hair roughly tousled and his bare feet peeking out from underneath his trousers, Stuart thought he looked like a dream come true. Even if he hadn’t been planning on it, the mere sight of Steve might have prompted Stuart to propose anyway. Steve hooked his fingers through his belt loops and smiled bashfully as Stuart open-mouth gaped at him.  
“I’m glad I can still shut you up, Stu, even after all these years,” Steve said at last.  
Stuart came to his senses, stopped gawping, and found his voice, “I’m sorry, you just look… insanely hot.”  
Steve rolled his eyes but he was utterly delighted with the compliment, making his way over to Stuart.  
“And you look very handsome too,” Steve wrapped his arms around Stuart and they stared at each other for a moment before falling into a drowsy, dreamy kiss.  
“Hungry?” Stuart asked when they finally emerged for air.  
“Starved,” Steve grinned and accepted Stuart’s hand as he led him to the table outside where the starter plates of smoked salmon salad were set up, before disappearing back into the kitchen to get the wine.

They ate slowly, chatted easily, spending a lot of the time just gazing lovingly at each other, playing with each other’s hair or squeezing each other’s hands; basically behaving like the cringey, lovesick couples they loved to mock. Steve didn’t have much of a sweet tooth so Stuart bought him out a single cupcake with a candle in it, and Steve insisted he sing him Happy Birthday, which made Stuart die from embarrassment but it amused Steve greatly. Steve fed most of the cupcake to Stuart, smearing a splodge of the icing onto Stuart’s nose for good measure.  
“Care to retire to the loveseat?” Stuart asked, indicating the outdoor sofa with his head, his breath already catching with nerves.  
Steve nodded and followed Stuart over, curling up against his boyfriend as they sat looking up at the stars. Well, Steve did, Stuart couldn’t take his eyes off Steve; it was time.

Steve settled into Stuart’s chest, pulling Steve’s arm around him like a blanket Stuart took a deep breath and began.  
“Babe,” Stuart started simply, ensuring Steve was paying attention.  
“Mm?” Steve responded, indicating with the least possible effort that he was listening.  
“Are you happy?” Stuart asked, steadying his voice.  
“Very,” Steve punctuated his remark by kissing Stuart’s hand.  
“Me too.” Stuart went on, afraid to lose his nerve by stopping, “I have been so, overwhelmingly happy with you. These last nine years…”  
Sensing a moment of importance, Steve sat up and looked straight at Stuart, keeping hold of Stuart’s hand in his lap. He bit his lip, and listened.  
“And I know it’s not nine years, not really, but I’ve been head over heels in love with you this whole time. I love you Steve, so much.”  
Steve felt like he was allowed to interject here so he quickly and simply responded, “I love you too, baby.”  
Stuart smiled, and blinked away rapidly forming tears, he was almost at his crescendo.  
“I know our set up is **_so far_** from ideal, but I really think we can get through anything together. And I’m just done worrying about anyone else’s opinion, or anything else except us.”  
Stuart gently tugged his hand away from Steve’s and turned to the plant pot that was positioned perfectly next to them. Ever the traditionalist, he turned back, dropped to one knee and opened the box, exposing two dark metal rings.  
With one final intake of breath, Stuart finally managed to get out the question he had been planning on asking for weeks, but beneath his self-loathing and his own various issues, had really been working up to asking for years, “Steven Thomas Finn, will you marry me?”

Steve’s eyes were brimming with tears now, and for a few moments he was utterly speechless. He couldn’t quite believe what was happening in front of him. He couldn’t quite believe the awkward, blushing, gorgeous, lanky fast bowler who he’d tangled legs with on an Adelaide hotel carpet was now knelt in front of him, proposing. Indeed he was so stunned, he almost forget to respond until Stuart, getting unsure now, slightly wobbled on his perch and started saying, “Um…”  
This pushed Steve into action and he blurted out at last, “Yes, yes I’ll marry you Stuart”  
Flushing with relief, Stuart took the right ring from the box and began to ease it onto Steve’s finger; it fit perfectly. Steve looked at it admiringly, it was unfussy and slick, a handsome ring, and totally **_them_**.  
“You like it?” Stuart asked, although he was already grinning with self-satisfaction that he’d got the design right.  
“I love it! Come here,” Steve pulled Stuart from the floor and onto his lap, the ring box with Stuart’s ring still inside, snapping shut and falling between them. They kissed, and kissed, and kissed, until their face hurt from the effort, or it could have been the smiles that they were fighting off the whole time.

When they finally fell apart, Steve realised the lump he had felt at his side wasn’t Stuart ‘happy to see him’, or it wasn’t just that at least, but the hard edge of the ring box.  
“Oh shit, your ring, sorry I got so excited about mine I forgot.”  
Stuart chuckled sand shook his head, “Well, go on then.”  
Steve opened the box and returned the favour with Stuart’s ring, slipping it onto his left hand. They put their hands alongside each other, cocking their heads to admire the way the rings looked together. After a silent moment of reflection, they turned to one another with a grin, as if alighting on the same thought at once.  
Stuart raised his eyebrow, “Bedroom?”  
A cheeky thought crossing his mind, Steve looked around as if he couldn’t tell whom Stuart was addressing.  
“I’m sorry who are you talking to?”  
Stuart was far too deliriously happy not to go along with Steve’s lame joke, so he stood and pulled Steve up beside him, looking at him levelly, “I’m talking to you babe, my fiancé, the fucking love of my life.”  
And with that, Steve melted into Stuart, kissing him warmly and fully, before following his fiancé upstairs.


	8. Home sweet home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Stuart celebrate their engagement, and then share the good news with their family and The Family...
> 
> Very smutty to start with and then very very sweet

Over the years, Steven and Stuart had shared a variety of intimate encounters; they’d had hungry but hesitant sex when they first got together, sloppy, celebratory sex after series wins, desperate, grabbing at each other sex after long stretches apart. They’d also had it slow and tender like after they first exchanged “I love you”s after a gritty rain-affect ODI draw with India at Lord’s back in 2011, Steve had only just made the side in the fourth of five games and England squeaked to a tie by Duckworth Lewis. It was a weird game with a weird vibe but back in Steve’s flat, mulling over the day under a blanket with whisky, they realised that sharing it with each other was more important than anything they did on the field.

This time was something else, it had a lot in common with that night years ago, as well as with their more hot and heavy escapades but it was somehow more real than that, deeper; fiery and intense but altogether more complete. It was as if any insecurity, any tiny bit of darkness, between them had been dissolved, and left in its place an electric, almost blinding, bright, white heat. As they sank onto the bed together, Stuart took Steve’s face in his hands and held it there, staring sappily into Steve’s eyes, “God I’m luckily,” he intoned seriously.  
“Yeah, you are,” Steve grinned.  
Stuart huffed a laugh and kissed Steve long and hard, letting his fingers run through Steve’s hair, his ring pleasingly grazing against Steve’s scalp. Relishing the feeling Steve smiled into the kiss and pushed his tongues to meet Stuart’s, letting them mingle there together. It was ten years since they had first kissed, and it felt just as fireworks-exploding-thrilling as it did then, but there was something more substantial to it now. Rather than a slightly tantalising sense of doing something wrong, now there was an unshakable, significant feeling that the two of them together was wholly and completely right.

Stuart carefully undid Steve’s shirt, button by button, and removed it from him. In wordless agreement, he allowed Steve to do the same for him, then gently lowered Steve onto the bed. Stuart leaned away from Steve to remove his rapidly tightening trousers, and as he came back to his fiancé smiling dopily back at him, Stuart ran a hand through Steve’s hair once again.  
“You’re so beautiful,” Stuart whispered, almost to himself, and before Steve had a chance to reply, Stuart slid down his body, kissing down Steve’s taut chest and abdomen. Stuart traced his hand along the length of Steve’s waistband, first with feather light fingers, then with his tongue, until Steve began to whimper desperately. Stuart smiled wickedly before acquiescing and peeling off Steve’s jeans, never breaking contact between Steve’s skin and his tongue. Without pausing, Stuart went from waist inwards, taking Steve fully in his mouth. Stuart covered the length of him, tasted the whole, licking up and down each side of his shaft and then sucking at the tip. Steve thought he might be about to burst at pleasure of it all, and was about to pull his fiancé from him when Stuart sensed Steve’s burgeoning excitement, and pulled back from his ministrations. Stuart worked himself by way of his tongue back up to Steve’s mouth, chewing on his lips and chin.

Steve firmly took hold of Stuart’s chin and kissed him hard, roughly tugging on his fiancé’s hair, eliciting a deep moan. Steve kissed along his jaw line and then sucked fiercely on his neck, which always got Stuart revved up, as if his engine wasn’t roaring already. Stuart trailed his hands down Steve’s ribcage, making him shiver in expectation. He traced his way to Steve’s firm behind, pulled him in close and whispered, “I need you inside me.”  
Steve grinned, and licked his lips, “If you say so.”  
He pulled slightly away from Stuart and looked deep into his eyes, then worked his fingers downwards to Stuart’s cock, and circled delicate fingers around it. He grazed along its underside and ever so slowly along to Stuart’s entrance.  
“Stevie, now. Please, babe,” Stuart whispered desperately.

Steve grinned, made himself pause, just long enough for Stuart to open his mouth to beg again but before he got a word out, Steve inserted one finger inside Stuart, forcing out a gasp from his fiancé. Steve gave Stuart a second to adjust and when he silently assented with a nod, Steve went with two then three fingers. Steve leaned down, kissing Stuart delicately before extracting his fingers and replacing it with his hard cock. Stuart closed his eyes blissfully and pulled Steve towards him to kiss him roughly while Steve rammed into Stuart relentlessly. They were both getting close when Steve momentarily halted, then plunged in again, deep and slow, looking into Stuart’s eyes. The pure intensity of the moment took them by surprise and they came together, their release loud and liberated.

They fell on top of each other, grinning, and lay there in silence for a moment before Steve rolled over to face Stuart, bringing up a hand to softly stroke his fiancé’s cheek, “Thank you.”  
Stuart smiled, a little confused, “You’re welcome..? Are you going to say that after every time?”  
Steve lightly slapped Stuart, “No, not for that! For everything you said tonight, for asking me to marry you.”  
Stuart grabbed Steve’s hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it, “Thank you for saying yes. Thank you for… thank you for loving me.”  
“Always baby,” Steve smiled, held tight to Stuart’s hand in his, and didn’t let go for a long, long time.

* * *

When Stuart came in with breakfast in bed, he found Steve admiring his ring, and Stuart didn’t think he could love him more than in that moment. Steve looked up at Stuart and melted, “Breakfast in bed? I already said yes. **_And_** I already gave it up” Steve teased.  
Stuart rolled his eyes as he slid the tray of tea, toast and yoghurt with fancy fruit compote over to Steve and kissed him on the cheek, “I’ll never stop trying to make you happy Steve. Ever. That’s what I was promising you, that’s what that means” Stuart indicated his own ring with his thumb, adding just as Steve was about to melt into a messy puddle in the bed, “And I won’t stop trying to get in your knickers.”  
Steve belly-laughed, before grasping Stuart’s face and kissing him fully, almost dislodging the breakfast tray, “I love you very much, Stuart Finn.”  
Stuart chuckled, taking a piece of toast and biting into it, “Never gonna happen babe.”  
Steve made a low hum as if to say ‘ _we’ll see_.’  
Stuart shook his head and stroked Steve’s head lovingly as he tucked in to breakfast.  
Mouth still full and not quite looking at Stuart, Steve ventured, “So, are we telling the boys?”  
“You say that like you didn’t do a photo shoot of your ring for Jos already.”  
Steve blushed as he swallowed his mouthful, “I didn’t send it yet.”  
“It’ll look better with both our rings, don’t you think?” Stuart offered with a kind smile, but put his hand over Steve’s as his fiancé reached for his phone, “But I kind of think we should tell our families first."  
Steve nodded silently, understanding.

"I mean Gem knows, obviously,” Stuart continued, gesturing to his ring, and Steve grinned, it already seemed so natural there nestled beneath his knuckle.  
“I thought I recognised the style, I love Gem’s stuff.” Steve enthused, and was met by a quizzical eyebrow from Stuart.  
“You’ve seen her jewellery?”  
“I ordered a necklace for Chloe’s birthday, mates rates naturally, I guess it’s the family discount now though.” Steve rushed to add, “Don’t worry, I’ll put both our names on it.” Steve hadn’t expected Stuart to remember his sister’s birthday coming up, indeed any dates that weren’t related to Nottingham Forest pretty much passed him by, but Stuart – even after all these years – kept on surprising him.  
“Well it’s not as thoughtful as a necklace but I did ask her what she wanted. She just text me back a series of pound signs.”  
Steve guffawed, “Classy girl that Chloe.”  
“Easily pleased, just like her brother” Stuart grinned, turning on Steve and preying down on him. In one swift movement, he pushed the tray to the side and straddled Steve as he huffed in indignation.  
“I’m actually a highly complex indiv-“ But Steve’s protestations died in the air as Stuart licked along Steve’s jaw line and then bit onto Steve’s lower lip before kissing him, hard. Turns out his fiancé was pretty familiar with what sparked Steve’s pleasure, and had a pretty direct route mapped out. Their news bulletin momentarily forgotten, the newly engaged couple enjoyed just a little more of the moment to themselves.

* * *

When they eventually got round to broadcasting their good tidings, they sat on the sofa with coffees and their phones and went through the key people in turn. Their family were thrilled of course; Stu’s Dad got silent and teary but couldn’t stop smiling, Gem was ecstatic to be involved and wanted every detail, Steve’s mum was so excited she wanted to bring round a bottle of champagne straight away, forgetting they were up in Notts and also in the middle of a global pandemic. The Josephs came next – Joe squealed, Jos cheered, both wanted far too much detail about how they had celebrated the occasion; as per usual, Stuart went red at the question, and Steve found the whole thing amusing. They told Woakesy over Zoom and an evening beer – he blushed heavily, which was his way of saying he was elated for them. Steve insisted on texting a picture of him giving the finger to his Middlesex Boys group message, his ring prominently displayed, which was a friendly joke that they would definitely find funny, according to Steve.

Then, Stuart took a deep breath and composed a message to the England team chat; it was a composite of the World Cup and Ashes Squad from last summer, plus a few new additions like Ollie Pope, Zak Crawley and “that hot piece” Ben Foakes (Steve’s words). It was a growing group, adding those that had been called up, rather than removing those who had been dropped from the squad, though Steve had strongly suggested that Dawid Malan get _accidentally-on-purpose_ deleted. But the long and short of it, the unavoidable thing was that it was big. And Stuart only knew a select group of the lads well, Steve knew hardly any of the new guys and despite his better instincts held a tiny bit of ill-feeling towards the horde of new guys coming in from Surrey; rivalries run deep, what can he say? But Stuart was determined to show the world, or his world at least, how proud he was to be with Steve, how grateful he was that Steve agreed to marry him. Together they carefully composed a message, and accompanied it with a photograph of their intertwined left hands:

**_A lot of you know already, some of you will have guessed, but for those that don’t, for the best part of the last decade, I have been lucky enough to be in a relationship with Steven Finn_ **

[Steve added the lucky part, Stuart acquiesced but insisted on removing his middle name – Steve liked it, Stuart said it sounded insane.]

**_Yesterday, I asked him to marry me, and he said yes. We are very happy and hope you guys feel the same. We aren’t exactly going public but we aren’t hiding it either. Look forward to seeing you all whenever his craziness ends. Stay safe, Stuart and Steve x_ **

Steve wanted to add something about being registered at Harrods but after Stuart stared at him in silence for thirty seconds and said, “I don’t get it,” Steve spent a millisecond reconsidering saying yes to Stuart’s proposal then told him it didn’t matter. The responses came in quickly, mainly congratulatory but quickly followed up with comments like “About time Stu” and “Took you long enough” along with some expressions of surprise from some of the newer players, but all positive. There was some gloating on the part of the Josephs for being the first in the group to know – Woakesy was too nice to indulge in that of course - but most of the established players had known about Stuart and Steve for a long time and this seemed to be the most natural development, in fact most of them either thought it was long overdue or assumed they had already quietly tied the knot long ago. All apart from Jonny, who bless his clueless heart, had no idea about them at all – obviously the lads completely went in on him for that. It turned out they hadn’t been as subtle as they thought; the fact that Steve had left the England setup but never really left might be part of it, Stuart moping around on every single tour away was likely another, and Stuart completely disappearing from the team hotel and constantly having dinner with the TMS lot during the New Zealand tour might have convinced any lingering doubters. Jonny’s delightfully naieve “I thought you were just networking Broady” set off a series of teasing messages, memes and gifs that Steve and Stuart simply watched shoot by.

Then, Stuart got a private message from one Sir Alastair Cook. The man who was just in Stuart’s Contacts as a Chef emoji sent a sweet and to the point text – with proper punctuation of course, and even separate paragraphs. Rather than saying “at last” or “Jesus Christ what took you both so long?” as the others had done, he said he understood the journey Stuart had been on, had seen Stuart at some of his lower moments and had seen Steve bring him out of them. He finished by saying he was proud of Stuart, proud of them both, and that he was so over the moon for them. Stuart was so moved he didn’t even notice at first that Ali wasn’t in that England Team Whatsapp group. He must have had an inside man, perhaps a certain grumpy fast bowler whose arms he was cuddled up in that very moment? Who’s to say? But Stuart would certainly recommend getting yourself a tall, dark, handsome fast bowler with a sarcastic sense of humour and eyes you could lose yourself in. Stuart would certainly hold onto his forever. Steve wondered how Stuart felt about the whole thing and when he simply replied, “Relieved,” Steve believed him; he looked it. The question of why they hadn’t told people earlier went unasked but it hung in the air between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed - sorry it took a while.
> 
> The next one is almost done so should be up soon.


	9. Home and away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart and Steve are on TV! I literally never thought I'd write a fic that had Michael Atherton appearing in it but here we are...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you guys I had a quick update. But now it may be a while before the next one (with cricket, hockey and football plus a lot of reading I have to do, the next few weeks are going to be manic - plus work I guess!)

A week after Steve’s “second best birthday ever” (his 8th birthday had reptiles, apparently) the two of them were due to appear on Sky Sports, reliving Stuart’s famous 8-15 at Trent Bridge in 2015 – or Steve’s 1-21, as Steve preferred to call it. That morning, Stuart had just come off the Peloton and was wolfing down eggs as if trying to beat a record. Steve was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee and staring out the window pensively.  
“Are you gonna wear your ring? On TV I mean?” Steve asked after a while.  
Food still rolling around his mouth, Stuart shrugged, “Dunno. Hadn’t thought about it.”  
Steve cringed, “Honestly babe, when you do that, it makes me want to give it back.”  
Stuart swallowed his mouthful, suitably chastised, and Steve had to laugh, “You’ve changed, the less mature Stuart Broad would have just opened his mouth wider.”  
Stuart grinned, and getting up, he took his plate to the sink and gave Steve a sweaty kiss on the cheek, “Well, I’m a grown up now, engaged and everything.”  
Steve flicked his eyebrows upwards – oh yeah? Seemingly forgetting the question, Stuart was already on his way out of the kitchen.  
“Well?” Steve asked, eager for a response.  
“Well what?” Stuart asked, only now remembering, “Oh, well yeah. That’s the point, isn’t it? Not hiding.”  
Steve frowned, partly touched, partly concerned, “Well yeah, telling the boys but- like this is TV, the public… Stu I wasn’t expecting…”  
Steve was floundering now, clearly unsure, and Stuart rushed to him, and cradled his worried face in his hands.  
“Look, baby, we’ll be on two different screens, I doubt people will even notice our rings. But if they do, and they want to speculate or whatever, I’m- I’m really not worried about it. But if it scares you, we can take them off. Whatever makes you happy.”  
Steve grinned, loving this newfound confidence in his fiancé. He wasn’t used to being the unsure one but the whole thing had been beginning to feel a little much, a little big. But Stuart’s assuredness was infectious, and Steve couldn’t help but get on his level.  
“I’m not scared,” Steve said simply, and Stuart kissed his smile and then planted a soft kiss on his forehead before turning to go upstairs, muttering under his breath as he very quickly left the room, “Might want to change your shirt though because you are quite sweaty now.”  
As Stuart sprinted up the stairs, all he heard was the irritated voice of his fiancé cursing. “Fuck Sake Stu.”

* * *

It was a weird setup being sat at two different laptops, one upstairs in Stu’s office/Steve’s reading nook and the other downstairs in the living room so their sound didn’t interfere with each other. But Steve was honestly looking forward to it; he loved talking about Stuart’s bowling. He might deny it but he loved watching his fiancé dominate a batting line-up, and when they were away from each other, when he really missed Stuart, he could very easily be found watching endless highlights videos on YouTube. When Steven was sent back from Australia in 2016 after tearing his knee cartilage, he took it very hard, especially with the drubbing England took; he just wanted to be out there with Stuart, to be there for him. When Stuart went onto YouTube on his laptop, looking for a mindless distraction, he realised Steve must be signed into his account on his tablet back in London; he found a series of ‘Stuart Broad wicket compilations’ in the Watch History and almost broke down. Rather than reveal to Steve what he had discovered, he rang Steve for a long, soppy phone call – they both forced cheeriness for a while but then ended up sobbing over Facetime, confusing the cats who were nestled at Steve’s feet. And the next day when Jimmy commandeered Stuart’s laptop to show him a Blossoms song he was obsessed with, and made a scathing remark about Stuart’s ego on seeing all the highlight videos, Stuart simply smiled in a faraway kind of way and took the tease.

Stuart was on the programme from the start, and Steve was due to join after the break so after a quick good luck kiss, they split to their different floors of the house. When Stuart eased into his seat and inserted his AirPods, Ian Ward, Michael Atherton and Sir Alastair Cook were already set up and chatting among themselves. Ali beamed when he saw Stuart and couldn’t help bursting out, “Congratulations Broady!” before hurriedly adding, “On the new house I mean.”  
“Thanks Cooky,” Stuart stuttered before making some small talk with the other two. Ali grimaced guiltily and sent him a short text saying: _Sorry, got excited._ Stuart couldn’t be mad, he gave a small shrug and took a breath; this was the new normal now.

Watching the coverage geed Steve up and by the time it was coming up to the adverts, he was practically bouncing with energy, eager to get going. He tried to use up some of his twitchiness by going down to make a coffee, although more caffeine was hardly the best idea right now. Without thinking he made one for Stuart and when the ad break before he was due on air started, he dropped it off, casually squeezing Stuart’s shoulder and scooting back to his laptop to do the sound check he’d promised the producer. Stuart gratefully wrapped his hands around the mug and took a large sip before turning back to the screen and finding Michael Atherton watching him. Stuart jumped a little, “Sorry Athers, didn’t realise anyone was still there,” Stuart murmured, checking the rest of the screen for any other sign of life but Ian Ward had wandered off for a comfort break, Ali had logged off in preparation for Steve’s imminent arrival.  
Athers smiled kindly, saying carefully, “That Steve Finn with you? I didn’t realise you were… staying together.”  
Stuart swallowed, “Yeah we are… _staying together._ ” Stuart leaned heavily on the words, hoping the meaning was clear without having to say it out loud.  
Athers’ eyes crinkled at the edges, he kept his smile there, and then he looked down at Stuart’s hand, “And I’m guessing it wasn’t really your new house that Alastair was congratulating you on earlier?”  
Stuart blushed, and fiddled with his ring, “Same house, new jewellery.”  
Athers beamed warmly, and in his quiet Lancashire burr that he saved for off-air conversation, said deliberately “Well congratulations Stuart. No small thing that.”  
“Thank you,” Stuart replied, his voice low.  
Athers continued, “You could have done this together. Two screens, one house, seems silly.”  
Stuart exhaled with a relieved chuckle, “Too weird, Athers.”  
“Fair enough,” Athers laughed as well before moving on, “We’re about to go back. Where’s Wardy?”  
Just as Stuart’s blush was fading, Athers added, “Nice mug, by the way.” He gestured at the screen and Stuart looked down and realised the mug he was holding had Middlesex 2016 County Champions printed on the side. “Jesus, Steve,” he muttered and stashed the mug from view, but he was smiling as little windows showing Ian Ward and his fiancé popped up on the screen.

* * *

The rest of the show passed pleasantly but uneventfully; it was enjoyable to relive that day but rather than nostalgic, Stuart just felt revved up to bowl again. Steaming down the track in front of a full stadium of fans ooohing and ahhhing felt like a lifetime away but more than anything, Stuart just wanted to have leather between his fingers and be charging in, putting everything into his delivery and feeling the rush as the ball moved precisely how he had meant it to. Without checking on Steve, whose stint had finished earlier, Stuart raced upstairs to change into shorts and a t-shirt before running outside to the bowling net in the garden with a ball. Of course, just as he stepped outside, he realised his fiancé was already there, running in, long, shapely legs and arms moving chaotically but somehow beautifully together. Steve turned to head back to his makeshift mark and caught eyes with Stuart, flipping the ball in the air, and grinned.  
“I see it had the same effect on you?” Stuart said through a smirk as he sidled up beside Steve, and slung his arms around him, giving him a soft kiss.  
“How fucking predictable are we?” Steve cringed.  
Stuart let go and was already pacing out his run-up before he replied, “At least we aren’t walking around shadow-batting. Batters are weird.”  
Steve shook his head with a laugh, despite the fact they had probably all grown up doing both, there was such as strong divide between batters and bowlers at the highest level, as if what the other did was some kind of dark art. And there was a certain snobbishness to bowlers certainly because (most of the time) they had to bat as well, but batters would have no idea how to do what they did – don’t get them started on part-timers, that’s a whole other conversation.

The two of them took it in turns running in until the sun started going down and the outline of the ball became fuzzy, long past the hour at which the umpire would have taken out his stupid light meter. As Steve rolled in again, Stuart just stared at him with doe eyes. Steve walked back, having retrieved the ball, feeling Stuart’s eyes on him.  
“What?” Steve challenged, “Did you… I can take constructive criticism.”  
“No, it’s just, I can’t wait for us to be bowling together for England again.”  
Steve stopped flicking the ball upwards, and looked down before speaking.  
“Ah.” Steve’s voice dropped, as he thought of what to say, and the open joy in Stuart’s expression dissipated.  
Steve finally looked up at Stuart, “It’s…not- I’m feeling good but-“  
“Babe you look amazing.”  
“Well thank you but look I’m 31-“  
“I'm 33! Gareth Batty was 37 when-“  
“Oh not this again, that was Rayns’ call-up. It should have been Ollie. Stupid Surrey bias.”  
“Okay, okay, sorry. But, I’m just saying, it’s not over yet.”  
Steve stepped up to Stuart, took the ball from his hands and put both of them on the floor, before holding Stuart’s face in his hands, “I need to know, when I said yes… that it wasn’t on condition of me getting back to England, that this isn’t what you see us working up to.”  
“Babe, I-“  
“Sh, just wait a minute, I need to know that you think we’ll be okay, that we‘ll survive whatever happens.”  
Stuart gulped, but he took a moment to show he took in the seriousness of what was being said, he looked straight back at Steve, “Steve, I think we can survive anything. Different teams, long distance, pandemic; anything.”  
Steve swallowed, relieved, and made to bend down and pick up the balls again but Stuart stopped him, bringing them face-to-face again, “But you can’t blame me for believing in you. That’s just the way I feel.”  
Stuart brought Steve’s face to his and kissed him slowly, wholly.  
Stuart himself bent down, picked up his own ball from the grass, and flicked Steve’s up to him, before his fiancé had even blinked.  
Stuart gestured to Steve – go on then – and then watched him as he bowled a jaffa down the track.  
“You’re getting so much more power with that action, your arms are going over more, right?”  
Steve nodded, still silent, but smiling now.


	10. Homeboys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Stuart do some wedding (party) planning

It was the small things that really made a difference; the cold of Steve’s ring against Stuart’s bare chest being the first thing Stuart felt when he woke up in the morning, the casual discussion of minor details of the day like themes they’d entertain or menu options they’d have to cover, the resigned shrug a stranger in a supermarket had given Steve when her flirting by the onions was met with: “Sorry, I’m engaged.” Steve came home that day with a strange smile on his face, and eagerly shared the story with Stuart.  
“Did she know who you were?”  
Steve snorted, “Did she fuck! Come on. I’m not an England pin-up like you babe.”  
“Well you’re a pin-up to me.”  
Steve smiled and raised his eyebrows to show he appreciated Stuart’s loyalty.  
“That’s Jos anyway,” Stuart continued, “Joe’s got some arm candy there.”  
Steve whined in response, “Back to my story.”  
Stuart gave him a peck of apology, “Sorry, baby, keep going.”  
“Well, that’s it really,” Steve had lost his momentum somewhere in the discussion of the levels of attractiveness of their teammates. Steve shrugged, “It just felt cool. I’ve turned people down before, several thousand broken-hearted men and women everywhere…”  
Stuart immediately punctured Steve’s sarcastic self-deprecation with tooth-aching sincerity, “I believe it.”  
“Bless you sweetheart. But this time, it felt different. To be able to hold my ring up and say, _‘Sorry, taken.’_ Is that silly?”  
Stuart shook his head, “No, not at all, I love having an added visual aid to my brush-off.”  
Steve glared and Stuart kissed his frown, “I’m just teasing babe. I do get it. It’s nice, to be formally, permanently off the market. It’s like a small thing but also kind of big.”

As for the actual big things like when and where they might get married, those were a little harder. The idea of planning anything right now seemed absurd, there’d be countless weddings getting called off this summer, so they were lucky to be at the start of the process but the idea of scheduling a date around county fixtures, an already packed international schedule or any other commitments in normal times, never mind the ‘Days of Covid’ made their heads hurt. And then there was the issue of The Best Man.

There plenty of worthy candidates for them both; Steve thought of Sam Robson or Tim Murtagh but there’d be too many arguments if he picked one over the other, the obvious choice then was the lovely Chris Woakes. Chris was not only one of Steve’s best mates but a total Mr. Reliable who would excel at the bureaucratic side of things. But then there was Jos. He’d be upset to be left out and even though Stuart was close with him, it was with Steve who he’d shared whispered conversations, long drinking sessions and a basically impenetrable shorthand – it would feel false somehow if Stuart were to offer him the job. Then with Jos came the problem of Joe; they both loved Joe but no one wanted to be saddled with him in their wedding party, which would surely happen to whoever chose Jos, like the two of them, the Josephs were a package deal. They mulled it over while they ate dinner, carried on the conversation as they brought their wine to the sofa; they talked in circles about it but finally came up with a plan: Steve would take Woaksey and Jos, and have two best men, and make Robbo and Murts his groomsmen; then Stu would take Jimmy and Ali – “if Jimmy even agreed” to it. Steve tried to reassure Stuart that Jimmy would be honoured to do it, that although he didn’t expressly say it all the time, he loved Stuart very much, and even if none of that were true, Ali would make him do it. Stuart rolled his eyes but was still looking anxious and insisted that Steve “donate one of his” if Jimmy said no. Steve agreed only to stop Stuart being so antsy. They decided they could make Ali and Jimmy babysit Joe if Stu took him as a groomsman, along with Ben; they were all used to doing that.

They decided to call everyone the next day; they were in no rush to create any concrete plans but this seemed like one nice thing to look forward to, and there was also the fact that Stuart was now obsessively fretting about it no matter how many comforting kisses Steve pressed to his temple, nor how many other ways he attempted to distract him. Tim and Sam were first up – they were thrilled to be asked, potentially even more thrilled to find out they hadn’t been trumped by each other. Satisfied to be on level pegging, they threw around ideas for a stag do – Steve rolled his eyes and told them there was plenty of time since they didn’t even know when they could get married, plus they’d have to discuss it with Jos and Chris. Sam lit up at the idea of a Whatsapp group, and Tim promised that Steve’s stag would be miles better than Stuart’s; Steve said that wasn’t the point, that it wasn’t a competition but when he relayed as much to Stuart, he responded with a straight bat that it definitely was.

Next came Chris who was caught off guard, rocking Laila to sleep, squawked in excitement, which then woke her up. Chris beamed, blushed and tried to hide his emotion by talking to Laila as if she understood the whole situation, “Your Uncle Steve and your Uncle Stuart are getting married, and Daddy gets to help them.” The whole scene melted Steve’s heart and confirmed that he’d made the right choice. Chris was happy to share duties with Jos but wished Steve the very best of luck to break the news without upsetting Joe; it seems everyone sort of knew about The Josephs, whatever illusions of subtlety their two teammates had in their head.

Jos was very suspicious when Steve asked for them to talk without Joe around, and struggled to come up with a time when they were actually separated, with Steve’s suggestions of Joe going out on a run, Joe going to the supermarket or even Joe having a shower being dismissed as activities they usually did together. Stuart made an exaggerated gesture of sticking his fingers down his throat and Steve cringed.  
“Give them a break, we were like that once,” Steve offered not all that convincingly.  
“We were never like that. I was only that pathetic before we got together. Once we slept together I just flat out stopped trying.”  
Stuart poked out his tongue, teasing, and Steve swatted at him, before taking a deep breath to make the most of his short time of getting Jos alone and clicked the video call button.

“What’s up, Finny?” Jos asked as soon as he answered, trying to appear casual but looking like being forcibly separated from Joe physically pained him.  
“I’ll cut to the chase. It’s about the wedding. It’s a long way off but… basically I wanted to ask – would you be my Best Man?”  
Jos’ eyes lit up, “Yeah, I’d love to.”  
“You’d be sharing the role.”  
“Okay that’s fine… wait, why isn’t Joe allowed to be here? He isn’t the other one is he?”  
Steve looked up at Stuart for support, who rather helpfully shrugged.  
“No, not exactly.”  
“What does _not exactly_ mean? He doesn’t have to be Best Man but… he’ll want to be included, you know what he’s like.”  
“What is he like exactly?” Stuart couldn’t help but interject.  
Steve glared and pulled Stuart down onto the sofa – you’re part of this now.

Steve faced up to Jos, “Well, Stu was thinking…”  
“Oh, it’s just me that was thinking this, is it? Great united front, darling” Stuart jumped in.  
“Well, okay, **_we_** then, but you know babe, when you think about it-“  
An impatient voice piped up from the screen, “Guys, I don’t gave time for your usual Steve and Stu couple banter, Joe’s just gone to the shops.”  
With his soft Somerset voice, it was hard for Jos to ever sound properly annoyed; even his sledging behind the stumps was never really all that threatening, no matter how hard he tried. But Jos was so rarely anything but patient to an almost saintly degree, Steve had to give in without teasing him further.  
“We both thought that you and Woaksey would be my Best Men. With Murts and Robbo as groomsmen and then Joe could be one of Stu’s party. With Jimmy, Ali and Ben babys- looking after him.”  
Jos definitely caught the slip and gave Steve the stink-eye but said nothing.  
“Ali and Jim haven’t said yes yet,” Stu added mournfully.  
“To babysitting, you mean,” Jos snapped, his voice edged with annoyance, his version of annoyance anyway.  
“To being Stu’s Best Men,” Steve clarified, then added quickly, trying to change the subject, “Stu thinks Jimmy is going to turn him down.”  
“What? Why? Ali will make him say yes,” Jos responded immediately, causing Steve to hit Stuart on the shoulder and gesture at Jos as if to say, “See?”  
“Why do you both think that’s comforting?” Stuart challenged, and Jos shrugged guiltily while Steve let out a less guilty chuckle. Stuart sighed and leaned back into the sofa, and Steve gave his shoulder a reconciliatory squeeze, swallowing a lingering smirk. There was a silence before Jos piped up “I’m guessing you want me to be the one explaining this to Joe?”  
Steve and Stuart exchanged glances, and Steve alighted on something, “That could be your first job as Bet Man.”  
Jos rolled his eyes, “And what’s Woaksey doing?”  
Steve grasped for something, “Er, Woaksey has a toddler to look after.”  
Stuart’s eyes lit up, “Though in fairness, so do you.”  
Caught by surprise, Steve cackled as Jos’ face went bright red – maybe he was capable of getting properly angry after all.  
“What did you just say, Broady?” Jos seethed.  
Steve stammered, “I’m sorry Jos- the internet- can’t hear you- terrible connection,” before hurriedly shutting the laptop as he and Stuart collapsed into each other in a giggling heap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a purely silly chapter, hopefully I'll get to actual things happening next time


	11. Homeboys part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone said they wanted to hear Stuart ask Jimmy and Ali to be his Best Men so here you go - enjoy!

Steve and Stuart’s giggling heap turned into something decidedly less innocent, as it was wont to do, with them, so it was the next day before Stuart got round to talking to Jimmy. It turns out Steve could distract Stuart from his worries if he wanted, at least for a while. Jimmy insisted that instead of Zooming, they could “just talk on the phone like normal people.”“Old people,” Steve filled in, and Stuart had to agree; his opening bowling partner was only four years his senior but it seemed like it was much more, the whole world seemed to irk Jimmy at times. Although his fitness and form was well below his actual age, his mentality was that of someone in his 60s, at least. Jimmy added he had no desire to see just how bad Stuart’s lockdown lid had gotten. It was true that Stuart’s hair had gotten pretty long since things had closed down but Steve hadn’t seemed to mind, indeed he’d given it a few hard tugs of appreciation and raked through it affectionately more than once in the last few weeks. The length was a bit mad but until there was the option of getting it cut, Stuart could deal.

“Right, what is it?” Jimmy began after a brief hello. “Yeah really well thanks Jim, how are you?”  
Stuart could hear Jimmy rolling his eyes.  
“Oh yeah, congrats on your engagement. Didn’t think you had it in you.”  
“Cheers Jim, I think.”  
Stuart couldn’t help but laugh; this was Jimmy’s way of dealing with any sort of emotional circumstances, this was his way of expressing affection – this could be a long phone call. Stuart could hear the wind whistling behind Jimmy so he could tell that he was outside. There was a strange noise in the distance, prompting Stuart to ask “Jim, was that sheep?”  
Jimmy said nothing for a second then, “I think being locked down with Finny has done things to your head.”  
Steve was walking past Stuart at that moment and gave him a strange look; Stuart blushed and felt as if she should say something in Steve’s defence.  
“Don’t deflect by insulting my fiancé, being locked down with him has been heaven on earth.”

Steve shook his head, whispered “laying out a bit thick babe” but there was a delighted blush to his cheeks as he shuffled away and Stuart knew he’d be rewarded for his loyalty later.  
“Mm, I’m guessing he was walking past just now?” Jimmy asked in his typically wry tone, and Stuart made a non-committal noise in response.  
Stuart took a moment, working up to what he was going to say when Jimmy cut him off at the pass, “Are you going to ask me then?”  
“What?”  
“Stuart, I’ve known you forever. I’ve been looking after you for fifteen years. That isn’t going to stop now.”  
Stuart swallowed, floored, this was probably the most openly Jimmy had ever spoken with him, but it was true, Jimmy had always been there for him.  
“Right. Well…” Stuart started, and stopped.  
“I can’t say yes if you don’t get around to asking me,” Jimmy prompted.  
“Will you be my Best Man?” Stuart said at last, smiling wide in relief.  
“Go on then, Broady, if I must.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Course I will, you muppet.”  
“Well, **_one of_** my Best Men, I guess I mean,” Stuart clarified.  
“Wait, what?” Jimmy was wrong-footed now.  
“Well, yeah, Jim, it would be you and… well… can I speak to Ali?”  
Jimmy fell silent. There was the sound of a door banging, and the outside noise cut out, all other noise cut out.  
Now, Jimmy was the one unsure, and Stuart pressed his advantage home.  
“Come on, Jim. I know we don’t talk about it much but like I’ve always known, it’s like me and Finny, everyone just… knows”  
Jimmy still hadn’t said anything.  
“You aren’t going to make me hang up and then call him separately are you?” Stuart whined.  
At long last, Jimmy’s voice came back on the line, slightly quieter than before, “I’ll… um… hand you over.”  
Stuart got the sense of the phone being stretched out between two people, and he heard a slightly posh, deep voice ask, “James, who is it?”  
Stuart listened as Jimmy croaked out an uneasy, “Broady wants to ask you something” before hearing the sound of him clearly disappearing rapidly from the room.

When Ali spoke, he sounded just as calm and friendly as usual; if being handed the phone by Jimmy at all fazed him, he didn’t show it. That was the strength of a former captain, that was the mettle of the man.  
“Stuart, lovely to hear from you. How’s wedding planning?”  
“Erm fine, well speaking of…”  
Stuart could hear Ali smile down the phone, “Yes?”  
“I’ve asked Jimmy already but would you… it would mean a lot if you both would be my Best Men”  
Ali took a an audible breath before responding and Stuart was genuinely scared for a second that he would say no; that he hadn’t been prepared for, Jimmy was meant to be the wildcard, not Ali. But it was clear that the pause was only for Ali to steady himself, for his voice was still shaking and full of emotion when he answered, “Oh Stu, of course I will. We would be honoured.”  
Stuart glowed, but couldn’t help but add, “I dunno, Jim might’ve changed his mind now.”  
Ali’s voice was calmer now, filled with warmth and love when he talked about Jimmy, “Oh don’t mind him, he’s just… private.”

Stuart understood, obviously he did, but Jimmy was crazy if he thought Stuart’s opinion of him had at all changed now that he knew for sure about him and Ali. Jimmy was crazy if he believed it even mattered what Stuart or anyone else thought. But such a new convert to “Fuck It” mentality like himself wasn’t in a position to give lectures, so he just made a small sympathetic noise in response. Ali, ever the empath, clearly read Stuart’s mind, “I know, Stu, give him time.”  
Trying to lighten the mood, Stuart ventured, “I didn’t dare tell Jimmy about the groomsmen, you’ve got Ben and Joe.”  
Ali let out a small laugh, “Yeah, probably best you didn’t tell him. Don’t worry, I’m used to babysitting Joey, me and Ben can handle him, try and stop him and James from killing each other.”  
Stuart grinned at the use of Jimmy’s full name now Ali was fully relaxed, but didn’t pull him up on it.  
Ali paused, and then asked, as if testing the waters “Is Jos in the wedding party at all? I just mean that… Finny and him are pretty close, I assumed that maybe, not that he has to, or that it’s related at all but-“  
Stuart put Ali out of his misery, “We know about The Josephs, Cooky, don’t worry. It was actually after a Zoom double date with them that I made up my mind about proposing.”  
Ali chuckled, half in relief, half confusion, “Wow, you’ll have to tell me that story soon, I want to hear the proposal story too, properly. But right now I better go look for a certain moody Lank hiding in a barn somewhere.”  
Stuart huffed a laugh in response, “Go. I’ve got to collect my reward anyway.”  
Stuart hung up before Ali had a chance to ask what he meant, and cheered, Stuart practically skipped upstairs to tell Steve the good news and celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it! It's short and sweet even though it's been a while (blame Playoff hockey!) My life is somewhat calmer now and I know what I want to write for the next chapter so hopefully it will be up soon. Also may start working on a Brinn origin fic... watch this space!


	12. Home ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart gets back to work, and Steve doesn't take it that well...
> 
> Smutty as heck, just to warn you.

They knew it was coming eventually, even when the normal world seemed so far away, that at some point Steve and Stuart would get back to their jobs. If they were honest, they were scared that it wouldn’t be this year; that this virus would swallow their summer whole, deprive them of the joy of thundering down their run-up, of catches pouched, of ball thudding into pad, of the hopeful cry answered at last by a finger raised. In fact, Steve was concerned it still wouldn’t happen for him, that the ECB would move heaven and earth to get England Men’s side some games, but everything else would fall by the wayside, and the county season just wouldn’t exist. Stuart whispered comforts to Steve, pressed reassurances to Steve’s temple with sweet kisses but he was nervous about it too, Steve could tell.

Even Stuart’s plan was all rather vague; he was to go to Trent Bridge by himself, take his own balls, don’t talk to anyone, certainly don’t touch anyone, bowl a bit and then come home. Steve gigglingly suggested that those should be Stuart’s rules whenever he left the house anyway, Covid or No Covid. He was joking of course, and willingly admitted that after Stuart pinned him down by his wrists and hungrily kissed Steve to prove his loyalty. In reality, they didn’t do jealousy; they did at one point but after all their years together but apart, it was just too exhausting and they couldn’t afford it – their time together was too precious to waste on arguing and their time apart already too painful to be made sharper with pointed accusations. They trusted each other so completely, so wholly; that was the beauty of their relationship, what gave it weight, solidity.

Well, at least they didn’t do romantic jealousy, but when Stuart came home from his first proper bowling session at Trent Bridge, Steve was green with envy. He had so many questions for Stuart about how everything worked about how it felt but the only thing Steve could think to do when Stuart came in the door - all sweaty, dirty (he wasn’t allowed in the showers) and very sexy – was to kiss him. Stuart dropped his keys in surprise, causing Ethel who had come to greet him to scatter, and wrapped his arms around Steve as if he was totally used to being met at the door this way. Steve’s mouth was greedy on Stuart, devouring first his lips, then his neck, as if trying to consume the experience of bowling on an actual cricket ground from him.

Steve was rougher than was his habit, and Stuart definitely noticed, but not unappreciatively. He pulled back in order to say something sarky but it felt wrong for the moment so he just held Steve’s face there and caught his breath.  
“Alright?” Steve asked, checking in.  
Stuart answered, un-cynically, unthinking, “Well yeah, I’m with you.”  
Steve melted into a kiss at this, reflecting the tender moment, then went back to the ferocity of before. Stuart took it in his stride, flinching in pleasure at the firm nips Steve was making at his neck and the upper parts of his chest that were exposed above his training gear.  
“Upstairs?” Stuart queried, as he pulled away just enough to speak, his lip lingering between Steve’s incisors. Steve merely shook his head and pushed Stuart backwards towards the sofa. Steve felt Stuart grin against his lips before they fell into each other again, not breaking contact until they tumbled onto the cushions, guided by Steve grabbing Stuart’s neck in both his hands and pushing him downwards.

Steve leaned back slightly in order to rip Stuart’s shirt from him and realised Stuart was starting at him, his eyes glazed, an irrepressible smile on his face, as if he was thanking his lucky damn stars to be right there right now. Steve couldn’t help but beam back, it was impossible to resent Stuart in this moment, to envy him at all; when he was looking at Steve like he had won the lottery to be with him.  
“God, I love you, you absolute idiot,” Steve whispered.  
“ ** _Your_** idiot,” Stuart reminded him without missing a beat.  
Steve kissed him again, then finished undressing him, throwing his tracksuit to the floor and pulling his training top over his head. Steve attacked Stuart’s chest with his jaw, creating marks and bruises as he worked his way southwards. Stuart froze Steve’s explorations, with considerable effort, in order to strip Steve from his shorts and hoodie – true to form, there was nothing underneath. Stuart shivered along with Steve as he ran his hand along brunette’s ribs, in anticipation, in familiarity, he wasn’t sure but he felt the pleasure go though him and couldn’t resist the reflex.

Steve ceased his cranial study of Stuart’s skin and traced a single finger down Stuart’s chest, slowly and without his previous aggression.  
“Stevie,” Stuart whispered – urgent, warning – as Steve passed over his pelvic bones.  
“What?” Steve asked, pulling back from a kiss, his expression faux-innocence.  
“Stevie,” Stuart repeated desperately without clarifying further.  
“You want me?” Steve teased, dragging his hand along the length of Stuart’s erect cock.  
Stuart nodded, too overawed to speak. Steve leered over Stuart, holding fast to his cock, and murmured - his face right against Stuart’s – “How bad?”  
Stuart pulled Steve towards him, kissing him with his tongue shoved far inside Steve, tasting him, then in a way he knew Steve loved, licked then chewed his way along Steve’s jaw line to his ear where he whispered, “Stevie I need you now.”

Acquiescing, Steve worked his fingers deftly down either side of Stuart’s length and inserted them both simultaneously into his entrance, working away at it earnestly. Steve used two fingers to massage his way into Stuart while licking away at his neck.  
Stuart opened his mouth to protest that he was ready for more when Steve silenced him with a kiss and a promise, “It’ll be worth it.”  
Stuart’s mouth crinkled into a smile, caught out, as Steve worked another finger inside Stuart, nipping the spot he had just been sucking.  
“Ow,” Stuart reacted but before Steve’s eyebrow could raise in concern, Stuart clarified, “Ow good,” which Steve answered with a wicked smile and a swift removal of his fingers, immediately replacing them with his fully hard cock.  
Stuart grimaced in pleasure, grunting out, “ ** _Very_** good, very-very-“  
Stuart couldn’t finish his thought, because Steve thrust deeply into him and he momentarily forgot everything he ever knew before or since.

Stuart made a grab for Steve’s hips, guiding them into him again, finding a satisfying, grinding rhythm. Stuart slid his hands downwards and cupped Steve’s firm buttocks. Steve leant down and kissed Stuart roughly, plunging into Stuart once more, and Stuart involuntarily dug his nails into Steve as he came hot and quick onto them both. The jolt of pain sent Steve to the edge, and he whispered, “I’m close.”  
Taking the initiative, Stuart pushed Steve backward and he slid out of Stuart, his cock slick already. Stuart took Steve in his mouth not at all gently, and quickly finished him off there. Stuart opened his eyes to give Steve a look that silently granted permission and Steve released into Stuart’s mouth. Stuart took a moment to swallow and then with a grin, collapsed in a sweaty heap onto Steve’s skinny chest, kissing both nipples before moving onto lips. Steve wrapped his arms around Stuart as they kissed long and slow there for a while before Steve gradually guided Stuart to a shared shower.

As Steve soaped Stuart’s muscles, which would undoubtedly be sore tomorrow from his various forms of exercise, he noticed he’d left several red marks all over him and he smiled at them rather sadly. He realised as they climbed into cosy pyjamas and padded downstairs to feed themselves and the cats that although he wasn’t the jealous type, he was possessive of Stuart and he was about to lose his fiancé again. People do strange things when they are scared or uncertain, and as Steve watched Stuart fuss over the cats’ food, he couldn’t help but see a vague countdown above his head, and he was petrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Australia have won two games against England, there is smoke everywhere (my city currently has the worst air pollution in the world) - clearly we are living in a hellscape. But fic writing is giving me joy. I have fragments of future chapters but not sure exactly what order they go in so we shall see.
> 
> Thanks as always for your comments and everyone keeping me going with their own fics!


	13. Home Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart and Steve face up to the end of their time together...

It wasn’t all that long before they got some answers about what the summer would entail. At the start of June, the ECB announced the West Indies tour, the players had heard about it a few days before but it wasn’t until they got the full list of dates that the reality of bio-secure fixtures set in. There was no official news about the County fixtures yet but the noises were surprisingly hopeful and it seemed like they’d get an actual season or something like it, the sanitised version of it sure but it was still cricket and the idea of actually playing gave them both such joy. But with that came the knowledge that Stuart would be leaving again, not even getting on a plane but being no more than a few hours drive away but completely removed from Steve, it almost broke them both thinking about it.

The cherry on top of the shit sandwich of the situation was that Stuart would be going into “the Bubble” as the ECB was calling it (Steve got the feeling he would grow to loathe that previously innocuous word soon enough) on the day before his birthday. Given how special Steve’s birthday had been, topping it was nigh-on impossible but it would have been a special occasion nonetheless and to have that taken away from them seemed strangely cruel even though it was completely unintentional and no one’s fault in particular. Stuart insisted they’d make a day of it before he left and Steve agreed but it added to his general malaise about the situation.

They both tried to focus on making the most of their last couple of weeks together, to concentrate on the good, as they had always been so good at doing during their times together. But willing a good mood into existence doesn’t always work and they had more than one tearful conversation about what their summer would look like. Unfair or not given the uncertainty of the world around them, Steve was holding their relationship to a higher standard now that they were engaged, they couldn’t just get through stuff anymore, they had to work harder at it. Stuart concurred, pointing out his lack of white ball commitments would give him large swathes of time where he could come back home but they had no clue how the county set-up would work, and Stuart couldn’t say for sure he wouldn’t end up doing media anyway. Both he and Steve had been intentionally shaping a post-cricket career in broadcasting, knowing they had to start now if they wanted it to happen. This at least was something they could share; Steve’s stint on TMS in New Zealand had given them a small sneak peek into what their lives post-retirement could be, they imagined travelling the world with the England team and watching cricket all day like before but with a lot more wine in the evenings.

But Stuart’s birthday was something positive to think about so they set a date a couple of days before he left for Southampton to celebrate him “becoming officially old” as Steve had declared. Rather than try and outdo Stuart’s efforts (or try and recreate the joy of Steve’s reptile birthday) apart from the classic birthday morning gift as soon as Stuart woke up, Steve tried to compile things that Stuart could actually use in the next few months, stuff to either distract him from being without Steve or remind him of Steve, depending on his mood. Firstly, he had got Stuart a new golf club, knowing that much of their downtime in Southampton would be spent on the golf course, and Stuart was determined to hand out long overdue beatings to Joe Root, Chris Woakes and James Taylor – Steve warned him that he might want to hold off on the last one, if he wanted to continue being selected for England in the future. Then, Steve gave him one of his own cosy jumpers that he’d spritzed with his cologne so Stuart could wear it in the evenings. Finally, Steve gave him a couple of wedding magazines (to plan for happier times) and two envelopes marked “sad” and “lonely” that were only to be opened in emergencies. When Stuart asked for clarification, Steve said that the first one was for when Stuart missed him, and the second one was for when Stuart **_really_** missed him – Steve’s waggling eyebrows seemed to give his meaning and Stuart swallowed and nodded slowly, then thinking of something, “Um, Steve I miss you now,” Stuart ventured.  
“No silly, I’m here now, it’s for-“  
“No Steve, I get it but I **_really_** miss you right now.”  
“Oh,” Steve intoned, the penny finally dropping. He then proceeded to give the Birthday Boy another less tangible reminder of them as a couple that he could take with him until the Bubble. And even if the memories faded quickly, the bruises wouldn’t and if the drive to Southampton wouldn’t be the most comfortable – so what? Stuart would pay that price any day of the week.

* * *

Steve wasn’t organised enough to be packed up when Stuart needed to go but he didn’t plan on staying much longer after Stuart left. He knew he’d get too sad being in Stuart’s house without a goofy, gangly blonde presence bouncing around the place, leaving dirty butter knives on the counter, making stupid noises by blowing on his wine glass, bringing tea to Steve in bed and writing love notes (as well as drawing cock and balls) on the bathroom mirror for Steve to find when he showered. They really hadn’t planned all that well with only having one car up there with them but Stuart insisted on organising a (completely COVID-safe) car service for Steve and the cats to take them back down to London after he’d left. He said it would put his mind at rest that his girls and his man were taken care of. Normally Steve might resent the possessiveness of the remark but in reality he quite liked being fussed over with stuff like this.

Steve helped Stuart load the car with golf clubs, a whole series of bowling boots and far too many bats, making perhaps more trips than necessary, not dawdling exactly but not getting it done the most efficient way either. As Stuart zipped up his suitcase, Steve noticed some of his new Middlesex training shorts were making the trip. He’d have to feign ignorance with the team and ask for a replacement (he could imagine Gus’ face screwing up in annoyance at having to shell out more money) but there was no way Steve would deprive Stuart of them.

They made one final trip downstairs and towards the front door, there was nothing else they could occupy themselves with, this was it. The cats were getting stressed out by the bags and mewed mournfully at Stuart when he went to say goodbye. Steve lent against the wall, just about melting as Stuart whispered to them, “I love you both very much. Be good for Dad okay?”  
Steve ran his hand through his hair and he felt like he had to come out and say it, air out something that had been bothering him, “I don’t know why this harder. We’ve done this so many times.” Steve seemed to be chastising himself, and it hurt Stuart’s heart to see it, although it was already aching. He rushed to Steve and held his folded arms until Steve finally relented and released them so Stuart could cuddle into him. Stuart spoke directly into Steve’s chest, “I guess we saw what it could be like. There wasn’t a definitive end-point, we could just… be together.”  
Steve made a mournful noise of agreement and Stuart swallowed and pulled his head from Steve and looked at him directly. He put his arms around Steve’s neck, Steve automatically put his arms in return around Stuart’s waist and they held their usual pose.  
At last, Stuart spoke assuredly, “It’s just a preview, baby. Married life, it’s going to be just like that, you know that right?”  
Steve said nothing, he just blinked at Stuart hopefully; he wanted to believe.  
“I’ll come home early, I’ll miss games, whatever it takes. No more war widow Steve I promise.”

Steve fell into Stuart at that, he kissed him softly and then nodded. They stood there holding each other, arms pulling their partner tight into them for a long time, longer than their legs could really hold out, longer than their chests could take the weight of the moment. At some point, Stuart got in his car and drove away, his ring digging into the steering wheel and his other hand running restlessly through his hair, as if that could change the destination, or who would be waiting for him at his journey’s end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's another sad one, I'm sorry to be so depressing guys. I don't know if it's the lack of sleep (the damn ODIs start at 5am my time) or the damn smoke filling up my city or just where I'm at in the story. I promise you the next chapter will have so much banter when Stuart is reunited with the team.


	14. Home/Away From Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart arrives in the Bubble, and everyone makes sure he's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts of sad but there'll be lots of team banter from here on out so promise, it will get more fun even if the boys miss each other!

Although his chest was aching at the loss, the first thing in Steve’s mind was to help Stuart, so he texted Jos and Chris to make sure they would look after his fiancé when he got to Southampton. Having two of his best mates there did put Steve’s mind slightly at rest, although it just meant there was even more reason he longed to be there with them all. Steve didn’t forget his own self-care and texted Sam and Tim telling them he was feeling like shit and did they want to meet up for a socially distant beer or two in the park tomorrow? They both responded in the affirmative and with a series of memes Steve presumed were meant to cheer him up, it didn’t work but he appreciated the effort. Needing to keep up momentum, and the appearance of productivity, Steve packed quickly, likely leaving something necessary behind, and was sitting on the stairs, cat’s baskets either side of him, staring at the door when the car service arrived.

Stuart made the drive to ~~the hotel~~ ~~the ground~~ the hotel, in good time, although everything felt longer without Steve singing along badly and very loudly to every single song that came on, without Steve holding up water for Stuart to drink even though it was always clumsier and messier than Stuart doing it himself, without Steve softly smoothing down his hair as he raced along. Stuart had driven away from Steve far too many times, but it didn’t get any easier in fact after their engagement, it felt like a gut punch. By the time he got to Southampton, Stuart had almost forgotten what he was driving there for, and when he saw the hum of activity in the car park, he frowned in concern until he opened his boot and remembered everyone was there for the same reason he was. Stuart tried to focus on that – against all odds, he was going to spend the summer doing what he loved, but the fact that he was doing it very far removed from the man he loved continued to weigh on him.

Stuart re-read the email from the Team Manager on his way in, familiarising himself with the protocol, rather than the usual whole team meet-up, Stuart was to get tested first thing, then pick up his key and his access pass (that he was to carry with him “ **at all times”** according to the email). He pulled on one of the fabric masks Steve had bought for the pair of them from a local Notts arts and crafts shop, forced his chin up as he trudged inside.

* * *

As Stuart left his test – blinking away tears, sniffing heavily, he probably wouldn’t ever get used to that – he heard a high-pitched shriek, followed by thundering steps then a furious whisper of, “Muffin, remember social distancing.”  
The footsteps then came to an abrupt, noisy halt. All this happened before Stuart could look up and see Joe and behind him an already exhausted looking Jos.  
“Broady, you’re here!” Joe squealed, “Let’s see then.”  
Stuart turned blinking towards his friends, trying to take in the scene, “Josephs, hello.”  
Jos smiled weakly at the couple name, since Stuart officially knew about him and Joe now he expected quite a lot of teasing to come, Joe rolled his eyes impatiently in response.  
“Sorry Broady, he’s excited. You okay? I guess you just had your test? It’s such a weird feeling, isn’t it?”  
Joe was almost bouncing in frustration, “Yes, Jos, boring boring small talk. Where’s the ring?”  
Jos tried one more time to calm his boyfriend, “Joey-“  
“Jos it’s fine,” Stu held up his left hand, resigned, and waggling his ring finger, “You’ve seen the ring Rooty, it doesn’t look that different in person.” Stuart breathed in, trying to channel his more patient better half, “But it’s lovely you’re excited. I’ll tell you all about wedding stuff later if you want.”  
Joe’s eyes lit up, “Oh yes, great, I have so many ideas. As soon as Ali gets here, I’m going to corner him and we can plan-“  
“Don’t you think there’s someone else Ali might want to see when he gets here?” Stuart asked, what he hoped was delicately.  
“Fine, Jimmy can get five minutes but then-“  
“That’s efficient,” Jos chipped in, blue eyes fired up mischievously, causing Joe to glare at him.  
“Look Joe, let’s have a socially distant dinner or whatever we’re meant to do later. Just- can I go to my room first? Dump my stuff and have a shower, call my fiancé?”  
Jos smiled approvingly, while Joe wrinkled his nose and huffed an irritated breath out his nose but reluctantly nodded.

Stuart dropped his bags almost as soon as the door to his room closed behind him, leaving them where they fell. He looked around the room and out the window at the ground, so this was it? Home for now, although he knew he’d be moving to Manchester before long, it all felt rather final, rather lonely. Instead of moping, he pulled off his mask, fished out his phone, and flopped on the bed, and called Steve.  
“Hi babe,” Steve answered and Stuart felt immediately calm, and centred. He settled into the surprisingly comfy pillows and exhaled.  
“Hi. You and the girls settled back in?”  
“Yeah, they’re both asleep next to me, absolutely traumatised by the car ride of course, I don’t think they like strange cars. Or they miss your terrible driving.”  
“Hey!” Stuart objected, and Steve giggled down the line, which was such a glorious sound that Stuart forgave him immediately, “Give them some of those tuna treats I bought them, they’ll recover.”  
“I’m sure.”  
“And you’re okay?” Stuart asked carefully.  
“No, not really, miss you already.”  
“Me too babe, so much.”  
There was a small sad but resigned silence. Stuart chewed on his lip.  
“But,” Steve said, attempting to bring the mood up, “When I got back Murts had left me some wine and Robbo had dropped off some nice bubble bath ‘cause I told them I was feeling like shit.”  
“Aw, I’m glad they’re looking after you.”  
“They’re soft boys really,” Steve took a short breath, unsure how much to say, “Have you seen Jos and Woakesy yet?”  
“I’m having dinner with the Josephs later, Rooty is much too excited about our wedding already, is there such a thing as a Groomsmanzilla?” Stuart chuckled to himself, rather pleased with that joke, “But I haven’t seen Woakesy yet, I think there’s a meeting later though so- wait have you asked them to check up on me?”  
Stuart could feel Steve wince on the other end of the line, and there was a guilty tinge to his voice, “Maybe… Stu don’t be mad, I’m just worried.”  
Stuart sighed, contented, “I’m not mad Steve, thank you for looking out for me. But I promise I’ll talk to them if I’m struggling, I’ve got Jimmy and Ali soon too.”  
“Good,” Steve sounded comforted.  
“And you’ll talk to Tim and Sam?”  
“I’m seeing them tomorrow, socially distanced of course, but- yeah it’ll be nice.”  
“And we can talk to each other when we’re sad,”  
“Of course,” Steve affirmed, sounding more cheerful now, “That’s the rest of our lives Stu, talking to each other like sad old gits,”  
Stuart grinned, “I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually meant to be part of a chapter but I went to the pub on Sunday by myself and wrote for ages and it was getting too long and I started off on a tangent so I ended up splitting it. The next part is almost done - once I finish that tangent (which is actually quite a big bombshell) so you will have more to read soon.
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and all the amazing work you're doing, which is inspiring me to write more.


	15. Sweet Home Southampton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team have their first meeting and a secret spills out

At dinner they all sat at separate tables, facing forward, even the Josephs sat apart, which was maybe the longest they had gone in the last six months without touching. Surely they had been doing plenty of germ swapping recently making distancing now rather redundant? Stuart raised an eyebrow in query and Jos whispered, “Optics.” Stuart nodded, understanding, the Test captain couldn’t be seen to be flaunting social distancing regulations by having his boyfriend in his lap, even if that’s exactly what he would be doing as soon as his hotel door was closed. Jimmy joined them; bringing greetings from Ali but soon looked like he regretted it when Joe started talking wedding ideas. Jimmy grumbled whenever Joe tried to draw him into conversation but there wasn’t much he could do. Stuart smiled to himself as he watched his friends bicker, feeling normal at last.

After the meal, they had a team meeting in one of the hotel’s large conference rooms. There was an undeniably strange feeling now that they were all together but it was great to be around everyone again – there was no hugging, no getting close and there was a vague sense of disquiet about what lay ahead, but there was excitement too; cricket was coming. There wasn’t much time to mingle before things got going but they did get to see Woaksey’s look of guilty panic when he saw Stuart. He rushed over and then – very badly feigning a casual manner – enquired after Stuart’s wellbeing.  
Stuart had to laugh, “Don’t worry Woakesy, I’ll tell Steve you did your duty.”  
Woakesy blushed heavily, as was his wont, and muttered a vague denial.  
“I’m alright Woakesy, thank you” Stuart continued, “It’ll get crappy I’m sure, and I’ll need all of you,” Stuart gestured at the Josephs and Jimmy, who nodded his assent curtly, “But I’ll tell you, I’ll talk to you.”  
This was the most open Stuart had ever been with his friends; gradually Steve had worn away at his hard shell. Steve had not only made him more honest and vulnerable within the relationship but also as a whole person. And Stuart had undoubtedly made a breakthrough in this regard in the last few months, he just felt so secure now.

The energy in the room changed suddenly as the coaching staff entered the room, turns out whether you are national team of pro-cricketers or a group of naughty school kids waiting for your teachers, it’s exactly the same vibe. Their head coach Chris Silverwood spotted Stuart and his eyes lit up and he stalked in their direction. Noticing, Joe flushed and in one stream muttered, “BroadyIToldSpoonsAboutYourEngagementIHopeThat’sOkay.”  
Stuart blinked, amused, “I guess it’s going to have to be.”  
Joe flushed again but Stuart immediately laughed, “Joking Rooty, it’s fine.”  
Chris stopped short of Stuart, leaving a more than safe distance between them but his booming voice more than made up for the gap, “Stuart I hear congratulations are in order.”  
“Thanks Spoons, we’re very happy.”  
“So who’s the lucky lady?”  
Jimmy snorted and Stuart’s eyes went wide and he uttered a stunned but formless sound.  
After a few seconds, Chris laughed uproariously and winked, “Just messing Broady, I’ve known Steve since he was seventeen. I’m chuffed for you both.”  
Stuart huffed a relieved laugh and the Josephs exchanged looks.

Chris looked around and did a very bad job of dropping his voice, “Well you didn’t hear it from me but your fiancé is about to be even happier.”  
Stuart frowned and the group exchanged confused looks.  
“Well I’m not with him so that doesn’t sound good.”  
Chris winced, realising what that sounded like, “Oh I just mean they’re announcing the County competition in the next few days.”  
“Ah yeah, that’s good news, he’ll be relieved.”  
There was a small awkward silence and Chris excused himself to start the meeting but then he turned back, “Stuart do you mind if I mention your news? It might be a nice bit of cheer with everything going on.”  
Stuart didn’t have the heart to tell him that already knew and nodded his permission before they all went to sit down.

The need for levity quickly became apparent as the meeting was dominated by guidelines, rules and plans on how to behave over the next few days, weeks and months. They had to remember, Chris stressed, how much effort the ECB and Cricket West Indies had put into making this thing happen and how precarious the whole setup was given the state of the world beyond. The point hit home, everyone was clearly grateful that they were going to play cricket, games that mattered, but there was also a very real feeling that this was going to be a hard few months. Stuart could see Chris clumsily change gears as he forced a cheerful smile, “Before you go, I want to share something. I know lockdown gave a lot of people time to reflect on what’s important, what really counts. Well someone in this room certainly took that to heart…”

The whole room shifted their eyes to Stuart and he swore he could almost hear it, like a latch sliding into place. Chris blushed, realising his announcement had been pre-empted and Stuart grimaced guiltily, but it was too late for Chris to stop now, “Er yes well our own Stuart Broad has gotten engaged to his partner who um… you also know, Steven Finn. So make sure you congratulate him. Er, that’s it. See you at breakfast.”  
Chris and the other staff members slowly shuffled off but not before they all came up to Stuart and wished him well. Their physio Mark Saxby, who had been close with both Stuart and Steve over the years when they came to him with their creaky knees and other fast bowler aches and pains, was particularly excited and Stuart felt a bit bad they hadn’t told him beforehand.

The team by some unspoken agreement turned inwards and clearly decided to follow their coach’s directions and ~~congratulate~~ interrogate Stuart in person. Stuart had been dreading telling “The Story” – not that he was unhappy to talk about it but it was more that he was afraid of getting it wrong and after hearing it, everyone would be left disappointed and silently wondering why Steve had even said yes. There was a part of him that wondered about patching Steve in via Facetime to give his version of events (he was always a much better storyteller) but when he pulled out his phone, Steve had sent a very NSFW selfie of him using Sam’s bubble bath gift. Stuart quickly stuffed his phone back in his pocket, blushed heavily, coughed once and crossed his legs for good measure, then began the story. There were several ums, ers, pauses and switchbacks when Stuart realised he’d left something out but he must have done an alright job because even the new kids were listening intently, and there was a heavy silence after he finished.  
“That’s really sweet, Broady” Jonny said at last, breaking the silence and the rest of the group echoed the sentiment.  
“I knew there was a heart in there somewhere Stuart,” Ben teased, but he couldn’t hide his proud smile.

Suddenly, Little Sam Curran piped up as if thinking of something, “Wait hang on, Broady, is Finny doing TMS this summer?”  
Stuart wondered about the relevance, “Er don’t think so. Not anytime soon anyway. He does actually still play cricket for a living.”  
Sam still looked like his internal cogs were whirring, “But he has been on TMS? Like in New Zealand when you two used to disappear on **_studio tours_** ”  
“Yep, yep, everyone remembers,” Stuart cut in, blushing, “Your point Samuel?”  
 **“** Well, you’ve been on TMS, he’s been on TMS, you could be like the first married couple to be on there.”  
Jimmy quickly cut in, clearly without thinking, “But me and Ali have already been on so-“  
There was a collective gasp around the room.  
Jonny – always a step behind – intoned, “Yeah but you two aren’t- wait, are you?”  
Jimmy was going bright red, clearly regretting the words that had just come out of his mouth but he was smart enough to know that backtracking now would do him no good.  
“I knew it,” Ben said with a triumphant grin.  
Woody glared at him, “You did not know that.”  
“Did too,” Ben muttered and Woody gave him a silencing look.  
Stuart grinned, amazed, “When?”  
“St. Lucia, last year” Jimmy answered, while looking at the floor, “We didn’t exactly plan it.”  
“Who knows then? Is this something when I’m the last to know again?” Jonny asked stroppily and everyone giggled.   
“I promise you I didn’t,” Stuart reassured him, “And I’m very perceptive.”  
There was a few murmurs of “nor me” and Jonny settled back into his seat, somewhat comforted.  
“No one knew Young JB, I didn’t even mean to tell you lot now,” Jimmy sighed, realising he was going to have to explain the whole thing, “We told our families when we got back obviously. And Joe and Jos know, well ‘cause they were there.”  
Stuart turned almost accusingly to The Josephs, his head turning like a menacing puppet, realising they had been pretty quiet during this whole thing.

Jos turned his characteristic shade of red but Joe just shrugged, “Like I’d let Ali get married without me.”  
“Exactly,” Jimmy rejoined, “We knew Rooty wouldn’t speak to us again if we left him out… we needed witnesses and Jos comes pretty much attached,”  
Stuart snorted amused, and caught Jimmy’s eye as he let slip a guilty grin while Jos went even redder. Either the rest of the team hadn’t caught the remark, didn’t find it a remark worth remarking upon or wanted to get the juicy details from Jimmy because the questions and comments came thick and fast.  
\- “So what made you decide to go for it?” (Bessy)  
\- “Where did you do it?” (Ollie)  
\- “Classic Jim, didn’t want to pay for a wedding buffet.” (Denners, of course)  
\- “What did you wear?” (Rory)  
\- “Shoulda done it in Barbados, could have got you a deal” (Jof)  
\- “Where’s your ring?” (Zak)  
Jimmy listened with his head in his hands, clearly rethinking every life choice he had ever made up to this point; finally he held his hands up, “Enough.” This shut everyone up and they all looked rather sheepish.

Jimmy counted off the responses as he gave them, not really looking at anyone in particular with his tone remaining flat throughout, “Bessy: It just felt like the right time, Ollie: this tiny hotel on the south end of the island, the views were spectacular,” - here, Joe and Jos nodded in agreement but Jimmy didn’t even pause for breath – “Yeah Denners, I’m Northern, I’m tight, funny. We wore suits Rory – no ties, and yes obviously Ali looked incredibly handsome, Jof thanks for the belated offer, we’ll think about it for our anniversary, and… oh yeah, the rings, we wear them at home but honestly I’m too scared to lose it taking it on and off playing – we’re just not that arsed about it. I know it’s important for lots of people but yeah not to us, we have… other stuff.”

Everyone was sitting in stunned silence by the time Jimmy looked up at them. He took a deep breath, as if exhausted from his efforts then finished with, “And if you have more questions, ask Ali when he gets here, I’m done. Goodnight everyone.” And with that, Jimmy pulled his mask from his pocket, put it on and calmly but purposefully left the room. Stuart blinked, taking in the whole performance, and couldn’t help but smile. As Stuart reflected on his two friends pulling a fast one on everyone, his train of thought was interrupted by Joe leaning over to him, as close as social distancing protocols would permit, and whispered not without menace, “You better not be getting ideas, Broady. I want a proper wedding.”  
“I’ll mention that to Jos for his future reference,” Stuart snapped back cheekily.  
Joe huffed petulantly, “No I meant-“  
“I’m just teasing, Rooty, don’t worry, Steve is not the eloping type.”  
“Good,” Joe affirmed though his eyes were narrowed in suspicion.  
Stuart rolled his eyes, “I’d pinky promise if that wasn’t breaking the rules.”  
“Leave him alone Muffin,” Jos whispered and Joe reluctantly dropped it.  
Now Jimmy was gone, the group was buzzing with energy, exchanging bewildered looks, making cheeky comments and generally joking around – it turns out it wasn’t Stuart’s news that had broken the tension but Spoons had still been right in a way. Smiling to himself and shaking his head fondly at his teammates, Stuart left them to it and headed back upstairs. As he strolled down the corridor, he dug out his phone to share the revelations of the evening with Steve, and suddenly remembered the photo to which he replied with several fire emojis. As the door to his room shut behind him, Stuart saw the magical three dots appear on screen, and he bit his lip in anticipation – the news could wait until tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this as a note to include for a little while, thought it was a fun tid bit. Hope you like the turn


	16. Down home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuart is getting dropped for the first test and he's pissed off.

Steve had been bowling in the nets all morning, and he was shattered, but the good kind of shattered. He was slowly building up his stamina to be ready for the start of the season, methodically and sensibly stepping up the workload over time. And yet there was still a good chance that after the first pre-season game, he’d have to roll himself out of bed, too sore to put his socks on by himself, and without anyone but the cats to help. But he loved that feeling; knowing he’d properly grafted, that he’d left everything out on the field to put his team in the best position to win.

Middlesex were still training in small groups, still keeping distance. Privately, Steve wondered how that was meant to last once the season started – they could tap feet all they wanted after a wicket and dodge hugs, they could stop spitting on the ball, sure, but would they really be standing two metres apart at all times on the field? Plus Steve was almost certain it wasn’t just himself and Stuart breaking social distancing in private – the Josephs for one, Ali and Jimmy for another, there had to be more. Still, Steve was trying to get himself used to being his usual tactile self among his friends, so he was pretty surprised when Tim came up behind him as he unlaced his bowling boots, squeezed his shoulders and leant in to whisper, “Spoken to your fiancé today?”  
Steve put on a clipped Australian tone, imitating their coach, “Is that social distancing Timothy?”

Tim rolled his eyes and took a seat on Steve’s kit bag. Steve pulled off his second boot and gestured towards Tim’s makeshift chair, “Murts, shoes.”  
Tim pulled out Steve’s trainers from underneath his bum and handed them over, noticing Steve’s engagement ring was tied into one of the laces.  
“Cool trick,” Tim remarked as Steve put his ring back on and began to lace the trainers.  
“Well?” Tim pestered and Steve refocused.  
“Have I talked to Stuart today? Er no, last night. Why?”  
As open as Steve and Tim had been in their friendship, Tim hadn’t usually been this concerned about Stuart’s wellbeing, something was off and it was making Steve’s hair stand on end.  
“Should I be worried?”  
“No, no. Well…”  
“Murts, you’re killing me. What?”  
“There’s some rumours online that Stu is getting dropped.”

Steve stopped tying his laces and glared at Tim as if he was personally responsible for the gossip.  
“No. I mean – no.” Steve stuttered, angry and confused at the same time, “Just because he didn’t take wickets in the warm up?”  
Tim opened his mouth but Steve pre-empted him, “Yes, I watched the whole thing with its terrible camera angles and its lack of any audio like the soppy twat I am.”  
Tim held his hand up to indicate that he was thinking nothing of the sort but guilty blush in his cheeks told Steve otherwise.  
“The game wasn’t **_for_** him, it was for the kids, the squad players who… they’re not going to drop him. Joe wouldn’t allow that.”  
It wasn’t clear whether Steve was trying to convince Tim or himself.  
“Well,” Tim began, almost apologetically, “Joe isn’t playing is he?”  
Steve’s stomach dropped as he remembered that Joe was self-isolating with the sniffles (the ECB were not taking **_any_** chances) and what that meant.  
Steve swallowed, going silent.  
“I’m just saying what I saw, I might be wrong, I hope I am.  
Steve smiled sadly back, “I hope you are too. Thanks for telling me though”  
Tim nodded, understanding, and Steve finished putting on his shoes and raced to the quiet of his car.

Steve pulled out his phone, realising he had a text from Stuart that morning, responding to the picture of the cats asleep on each other Steve had sent with the heart eyes emoji, then realising there was an even more apt response, sent the cat heart eyes emoji for good measure. Steve heart ached at the gentleness of the man that was far too far away right now; he quickly tapped out a message:  
 _\- Can I call you?  
_ Steve was used to giving Stuart warnings, sticking to prearranged times. For them contact wasn’t the free and easy, unthinking thing it was for most couples, but it was still a lifeline for them both. Thank god for comprehensive hotel WiFi and Facetime. Stuart’s response came quickly as if he had been waiting for Steve:  
\- _Give me a minute to go to my room. I don’t want to do this in front of people.  
_ Steve’s aching heart sank even lower and if there were any lingering ugly parts of him that were jealous of Stuart and his England place, they were gone now. He wanted so badly to be in Southampton but only to be there to wrap his arms around Stuart, to hold him close and whisper his worth into his ear.

Steve watched the last of his teammates’ cars pull out of the cricket club car park just north of London and turned his ring anxiously on his finger as he waited for Stuart’s call. He let out an anxious breath and his breath fogged up the window.  
Steve answered the call before the first ring, starting merely with a frantic “Baby.”  
Steve had expected Stuart to sound sad, maybe even be already crying, his fiancé was way more emotional than he let on once he let his guard down, which was always in front of Steve. But Stuart didn’t sound sad, he sounded angry.  
“They’ve fucking dropped me. For the first fucking test of the summer. It’s meant to be me and Jim out there but I’m not playing. After I’ve worked so hard to be ready, after I’ve left my fucking fiancé behind to quarantine in the fucking Rose Bowl.”  
Steve had to bite his tongue from correcting Stuart that actually it was the Ageas Bowl now, it was a reflex.

“I’m bowling well, Steve. Really well.”  
“I know you are, love. I’ve watched you-“  
But Stuart wasn’t finished venting, “I’m done with them, babe, I’m done with this.”  
Steve sat up in his car seat so swiftly; he almost caught his head on the roof, “What do you mean?”  
“I’m too old for this shit, too old to be messed about.”  
“Stu,” Steve began, half-soothing, half-warning, “Slow down.”

Steve loved his fiancé dearly, and he sympathised with him, he was angry too, but he knew him too well; Stuart had a flair for the dramatic. When Ashley Giles called Steve “not selectable” back in 2014 over that disastrous Ashes tour, Stuart ranged from death threats to sabotaging Gilo’s career. Steve wasn’t happy with the comments either but he’d since made up with Ashley while Stuart was still giving him evil glares whenever he saw him. When Steve won the County Championship, Stuart was so proud of him, he got way too excited and tried to buy Steve a boat as a well-done gift – like an actual boat. When the boat dealer called Steve and ask where we was planning on mooring it, Stuart had to admit he might have gone a bit ‘overboard’ and Steve had to beg for Stuart’s deposit back. So Stuart threatening to quit international cricket over not being selected wasn’t exactly without precedent – Steve would have to tread carefully here.

“Babe,” Steve started, his tone tender but firm, “They’re wrong, you should be in the middle tomorrow. The team is better with you in it.”  
“That’s what I’m-“  
“Stu, wait, just listen. It’s one game.”  
“Is it? Or are they starting to phase me out? Don’t forget I’m fucking old now.” Stu laughed sardonically, but there was an anxious edge to it.  
“Yeah but like still so dumb.”  
Stuart seemed to be caught off guard, “What?”  
“Like you’re older but not at all wiser. Don’t get me wrong; you’re really hot. But you’re like a beautiful blonde bimbo, with absolutely nothing going on upstairs. You’re great arm candy, yeah, and you’re totally bangable, but your intellect is sub par.”  
Stuart was laughing down the phone now, although he was trying to fight it, “Okay, okay, I sense there’s a point coming.”  
“You’re thick if you think you aren’t still the core of this England team. And you will be for a very long time. I’m banking on that central contract dosh to keep me in Moss Bros suits for a good while yet.”  
“You still have your England suit from there anyway you cheap skate. And you look very handsome in it, but like maybe time to buy a new one.”  
“You can buy me one with your match fee next week.”  
Steve could hear Stuart’s smile down the line and it warmed him from the chest outwards.  
“Steve.”  
“No, I won’t hear it. This is about the pitch conditions, trying to get some extra pace in. I mean it’s the wrong decision but you’ll be back in next week.”  
“I dunno…” Stuart whined, clearly wanting to be stubborn a little while longer.  
“I do. I’ll be sure for both of us. Okay?”  
“Okay.” Stuart grinned; he was so lucky to have Steve.  
“Now don’t sulk, keep working hard.”  
“I will. I don’t sulk.”  
There was a silence on the other end of the phone from Steve until Stuart objected with a loud “Hey!” and Steve chuckled to himself.  
“Thanks baby, you always know what to say.”  
“I know I’m really smart like that, unlike my airhead fiancé.”  
“I hate you.”  
“You **_love_** me.”  
“I really bloody do.”  
“Yeah me too.”

There was another silence, but a comfortable one, tinged with warmth.  
“Now,” Steve said, suddenly businesslike, “I know you’ll struggle to sleep tonight thinking about it, but the TV is going to be cutting to you on the balcony a lot tomorrow so try not to look like shit and embarrass me.”  
“I’ll try.”  
“Put on that meditation podcast I sent you, and just shut your eyes and at least rest.”  
“Mm, I will.”  
“Good.” Steve considered the matter settled and stuck his key in the ignition, ready to drive off.  
“I miss you Stevie.” Stuart whispered down the phone in his hotel room, and even a hundred miles away, Steve blushed.  
“Oh God, don’t call me that. I can’t drive home if you give me a boner.”  
Stuart laughed again, properly this time, then “I love you babe, so much. I wish I could home to you. But you’re right, I’ll stick around I guess.”  
“Smart choice. I love you Stuart. Be good.”  
They hung up, Steve breathing out relief and Stuart with a much quieter head than before. What a strange summer this was turning out to be, Stuart thought to himself, but things that started out looking like total shit hadn’t completely, totally turned out that way so Stuart was determined to stick with it and see where it went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed gang - sorry for the delay. Hope to update it more regularly and finally there will be cricket in it!


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